A Song of Wolves and A Dance of Dragons
by ravenria
Summary: Five years since the last book, Denaerys Targaryen returns to Westeros with the aim of Conquest. With her nephew Aegon at her side and the Stark children allying to her cause, Westeros taking shape in the image of the wolf and dragon. A/N: actually everyone's here, but the focus in on Aegon, Arya, Sansa, Dany, and later Jon
1. Chapter 1

"Who are you?" the kindly man asked her upon her return to the house of black and white.

She stood still, hands to the side and back straight but with hood in tow. "I am no one," she replied in a voided voice. Cold and chilling she turned the air with her answer.

"Who are you?" the kindly man asked once more.

"No one," she replied, now raising her face so that her eyes would meet his. As her voice was voided, so were her grey eyes. They seemed dead, and dead they probably were.

"Who are, you?" the kindly man asked again, stressing on the last word. He held up a cup he had been holding. It was filled with a clear fluid that was still even with movement.

She met his hand and took the cup. She smelled the contents, but it had no scent. She knew what it was and considered heavily if she were to drink it. She smiled at him as she took the cup to her lips but kept them closed. She removed her hood and let her hair flow in ghostly tresses.

"I am the ghost," she answered and spilled the liquid onto the floor. She knelt in respect, said a prayer, and turned around. "Forgive me, master. But I cannot give up my face." She started to walk away but was called back by another question.

"Who are you?" the kindly man asked a final time.

"I am Arya of House Stark."

The kindly man then threw a small and slender sword at which she caught and made her way out of the house of black and white.

Five years have passed since the War of the Five Kings and nowhere is Westeros close to peace. The balance of powers has shifted to the advantage of some and to the disdain of most. The Lannisters may be frail, but they still rule. Cersei Lannister's grip on to power intensified with her decent onto madness. She was locked away and Genna Frey took command after her brother's death. Their allies, the Freys and Boltons, are slowly being bit inch by inch by those loyal to House Stark and Tully. However, hope seems to be dying for the loyalists as Edmure Tully remains captive and all the Stark children are believed to be dead. The only people who seemed to gain power were the Tyrells. The gaping weakness Kevan Lannister left was the only opportunity they needed to take over control of the iron throne. But Margeary was still just Queen, and not Regent. Genna Lannister managed to curb their rise to power, but even she could not completely take hold of Randyll Tarly.

There were only two regions left out of Lannister-Tyrell control. The Unbent, Unbroken and Unbowed region of Dorne and the now Targaryen ruled Stormlands. Aegon the VI has secured Storm's End and had decorated the Usurper's Ancestral House in Targaryen red. Fortunately for the young prince, the last living Baratheons were much too occupied in the Wall for there to be much resistance.

It is this Westeros that the Dragon Queen is acquainted with upon her landing on Dragonstone. With all three of her mighty dragons, Deanarys Targaryen returns to the place of her birth after a life long of absence. The newly installed Castellan of Dragon Stone welcomed them bearing a letter from Varys. Immediately after reading, she rode onto Drogon and left for Storm's End to see the nephew she never knew about.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1: The Heads of Dragons

Deanerys dismounted off Drogon on the courtyard of Storm's End. There, a retinue of Targaryen loyalists led by Jon Connighton waited for her. The bowed down to her, and the old man brought her to the great hall where another silver haired being awaited her.

Aegon, if he was nervous at all, did not show it. He had known for a long time who he was and known for a long time that he was not alone. Deanarys on the other hand had distress on her features. Her steps were eager but cautioned. She had heard about this dragon who descended upon the stormlands, but it was her heart that told her not to hope. It was only after she heard of his many victories that she became intrigued and decided to cross the Narrow Sea. His hair and eyes were certainly Targaryen. He looked much like the Rhaegar she has seen in her visions, only younger, but he had Viserys' smirk of ire and confidence melded together. The young man rose from his seat and bowed when she was at the center of the hall.

"Your Grace," he said in a deep, melodious voice, "I am Aegon, sixth of his name, son of the late crown prince Rheagar; your eldest brother."

Denaerys held out her hand and touched his long hair in tender gesture of familial love. She was so happy that there was another one of her family who'd survived. "Aye," she said softly, "You are indeed my brother's son and not a lysene imposter." She approached the standing figure and embraced him. "We shall be family, now and forever as we take back what was once ours." Aegon began to return the embrace and Denearys felt a relieved smile creep up his face.

It did not take long before a small group of her servants and Queensguard was sent over from Dragon Stone. Ser Barristan had them prepared the moment she flew off on Drogon. Denaerys knew the old man must have been worried sick. She confirmed the matter when she found a raised brow on Cat's face.

Her bravosi servant had been suppressing a laugh. _She knows I'll get chastised for this when I return_, Denaerys thought. She may be Queen but Ser Barristan's loyalty went beyond that of a guard and onto a sweet grandfather.

As the other ladies prepared Denaerys' room, she asked Cat to go with her for a walk around the grounds of Storm's End. "Have you been here before?" the Queen asked.

"No, I cannot say I have Khaleesi. Though I've grown up with stories about this place. It's high walls was build with magic you know. Brandon the Builder seemed to have a thing for high walls." They both laughed at the irony of story and Denaerys sat down on the grassy field while Cat remained standing on guard.

"Will you not remove that infernal scarf of yours?" the Queen now asked.

"No I shall not your Highness, even if you command me to," the servant replied in a haughty tone.

"I still wonder why you take to hide such a face," Denaerys commented lazily sucking up the fresh westerosi air, "It is a lovely face."

"The sun is setting my Queen, we better get back," Cat replied, shifting the topic out of the Queen's head, "This is such a lovely country, Cat. I do understand why you wanted to return so badly."

"My homeland is nothing like this green place, your highness. But it is my home." A chill went down Cat's spine as she talked of home. She'd spent so much time in so many different places that she had to wonder which her heart referred to.

Upon their return that evening, another member of Denaerys' party had arrived. Lord Tyrion has finally graced them with his presence. They found him in the great hall having a fond and casual conversation with Aegon, whom he fondly refers to as _young Griff_.

"My Queen," they all rose and bowed when Danny entered with Cat in tow.

"Lord Hand, I did not know you were well acquainted with my nephew," Danny remarked taking a seat with them, ordering for some wine.

"I had quite a few episodes with them when I first arrived in Essos. I should have landed with them, quite frankly, had it not been for a chain of events that led me to you," Tyrion shared as he happily took his wine.

"It was Lord Tyrion, dear Aunt, who advised us to go ahead onto Westeros instead of Meeren where you were," Aegon said with a hint of alcohol already in his voice. Apparently the two old friends had been catching up for quite sometime. It was only then that Dany notices a passed out Ser Duckfield on the floor behind Aegon.

"Lady Cat," Tyrion remarked, "Why don't you join us in our drinking? I'm sure you Queen wouldn't need protection in this hall."

"Protection? Lord Tyrion?" Aegon asked in apparent confusion.

"I'd rather not let my guard down, Imp. We both know that in Westeros, negligence is oft fatal," Cat replied, already behind Aegon with a dagger to his throat.

"Cat!" Dany protested, but Cat merely laughed as she took the dagger back her sleeve and took a seat beside Dany.

" Lord Aegon, you must be careful. Even women can be the death of you," Cat remarked icily from behind her scarf.

"Drink," was Aegon's reply. Demanding that she show her face to him.

"Thank you, but I must decline."

"Why are you getting so drunk Lord Tyrion?" Dany asked, with a hint of inhibition on herself as well.

"I need to calm my nerves, your highness. For you see I need to ride out at first light," Tyrion replied with a few hiccups in between.

"And what is this so important mission that is also so unnerving for you Imp?" asked Aegon.

"I need to go and see my wife." Tyrion declared standing up on his seat as if he were to meet with death soon.

"Wife? I did not know you were married sir," Aegon replied laughing and banging on the table thinking it was a joke.

"Indeed I am. But she is a wife I do not love. Scares the wits out of me though, seeing her again after all this time."

"And if you do not love her, why must you seek her out Lord Tyrion?" Dany at this point was already supporting her head and giggling with the wine.

"Because if Varys is to be believed, she is currently ruling the Vale. And with an ally that powerful, I do think I must pay her a visit."

"The Vale?" Cat inquired, alarmed by the statement.

"Yes, the Vale!" Tyrion declared in another drunken speech, "The great Vale of the Arryns sits my dear lovely little bird of a wife."

"How is that possible? Isn't Petyr Baelish Lord protector?" Cat replied in another haughty tone, making Aegon stare at her intensity on the matter.

"For a bravosi, you seem to know a lot about Westerosi politics my lady," he remarked, Cat simply did not mind the drunken prince and focused her gaze onto Tyrion. It was good that none of them noticed Dany's knowing smile.

"Lord Baelish kidnapped my wife, Sansa Stark, after my dimwitted nephew's dastardly wedding. And I do not like Littlefinger having that leverage in the game." Tyrion explained, not sounding drunk at all. "More wine!" the Imp demanded and no further talk of Sansa Stark was made on the table that night.

It was a little close to midnight when a knock was heard on Cat's door. She had been fully awake, sharpening her sword and daggers. It was Aegon, the dragon prince, clearly still under the influence of alcohol.

"What do you need from me your highness?" Cat asked in a cold and formal tone. She did not allow him to enter her chambers.

"You're a little too mysterious for my own liking, Lady Cat," Aegon began, "My aunt trusts you to fault and the Imp seems to do so as well. You're one to figure out, you are."

"And you that brings you to my room, why?"

"I want to see that face of yours," Aegon began to reach out for her covered face but was blocked by another dagger. "You will not dare," he said and continued to grab hold, pulling the fabric of her face. Cat looked away. It was true, she dared not injure the prince if she wished to remain with the Targaryens.

"I heard of a story about my father once," Aegon continued, "they said he ruined a kingdom for a northern girl with long brown hair and haunting grey eyes." He held onto her chin and made her face him. She returned his gaze with no apparent amazement. "Your eyes are wolf's eyes." He then collapsed from an unseen move of Cat's hand.

"I told you, your highness to be careful of women," Cat remarked as she picked him up and dragged him up to his room.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2: The bastard on the weirwood throne

Aegon woke up the next day, with a very intense headache. He could not remember what he did nor where he was before he came to bed. An image of a very beautiful lady was imprinted on his mind, yet he could not remember where she saw her. _The faint colors of candle light_, he thought. _I do not recall going to the brothel last night._He then sat up and cradled his temples.

_Eyes_, he recalled, _haunting grey eyes._

Given the state of his drunkenness, it took Tyrion till noon to mount a horse and go on his way. He was however stopped at the gates by Aegon, who with hair dyed black demanded that he join him. "If this woman truly is this important, I think I must go and see her for myself, or at least on my Aunt's behalf," he explained. But Ser Jon was not comfortable with the idea. The group was to be very small to not seem suspicious.

"I will pretend to be one of his sellsword companions," Aegon proposed.

"But you would need defending yourself," Jon replied, much to prince' frustration.

"Why don't we have a member of the Queen's guard go with us?" Tyrion suddenly proposed. He had been silent up to that point, and his remark dumbfounded Connington. "Lady Cat, perhaps?"

All eyes fell on Cat who was behind Dany.

"Surely my Queen would be safe even without her most impressive knight?" Tyrion continued.

"I do not mind not having Cat around. But it would be such a loss of company," Dany remarked, "But it is true that if Aegon were to come with you, Cat would be the best choice."

With that, it was settled. They were given another night to prepare but all wine was withheld, lest they wake up hung over again.

The next morning, Cat rose from her chambers in travelling clothes. _I don't think I'll pass of as a boy anymore_, she thought as she looked through her clothes. She chose a simply grey dress armed with all that she needed. Still, a weathered blue scarf covered her face.

They were five men in total, with Tyrion riding with one of the knights. He was also quite well covered and pretended to be a sick boy of ten. Trouble was certainly met on the road, but it was no trouble for them at all. The sellswords who accompanied them were true Targaryen Loyalists from the Golden Company. And true to their reputation, their skill was certainly worth their price.

They camped out in between the roots of a large oak tree. They were bold enough to have a fire, not at all fearing the scavengers in the forest. The men were certainly happy. This brought back memories from across the Narrow Sea and they merrily talked stories of their great accomplishments. Cat, on the other hand, was never the social kind. She kept to herself after their meal, and walked a bit away from the camp. The sellswords did not know she was a Queen's guard, so when her absence was noticed they became alarmed.

"Lord Tyrion," one spoke, "I don't think the lady is still in the privy. Been much too long since she left. I think we should go out and look for her."

"Oh worry not," Tyrion dismissed, "that girl could kill a bear with just a stare. I'm sure she's fine." Having been reassured by their master, the sellswords returned to their stories.

Aegon on the other hand, felt more curious and worried. He recalled his conversation with Ser Jon before leaving. _Be careful of Lady Cat, I do not like how Lord Tyrion insisted on her company,_ said the old man. Aegon knew not what his mentor had to worry off that his aunt and hand did not. Was it Lord Tyrion Ser Jon did not trust? Or was it this Bravosi herself? More and more, he became intrigued with the girl.

They reached the Vale in a few days. The road up the giant's lance was filled with more dangers. And Tyrion was almost certain that Littlefinger was already aware of their presence.

"Are you still friends with the hill tribes, Lord Tyrion?" asked one of the sellswords.

"I do not know, Lyn, for my father paid them to leave me. Certainly though, they should not forget my worth in gold."

"And that does not make it any less safer for us," Aegon remarked wryly.

"It certainly does not, I wonder if the sky cells are as comfortable as they used to be," Tyrion mused with a bit of laughter. "I am almost certain that's where our rooms shall be."

They went on peacefully. Suspiciously peaceful, the roads were. Not even a guard in sight, until a young lady with hair black as ebony met them.

"Lord Baelish has been expecting you Lord Tyrion," she greeted them with a bow.

"Oh indeed he has!" Tyrion replied sarcastically.

They were lead onto the great hall of the Eyrie where the Knights of the Vale stood in grandeur below the Weirwood throne and with the moon door below them. Seated at the throne was the young Robin Arryn, still as sickly but less spoiled. Beside him, where Lysa once was, is the beautiful Alayne Stone. Petyr Baelish, on the other hand, was standing in front of his supposed family.

"Lord Baelish, Lord Robin, it is nice to see you all again," Tyrion began as he bowed to them.

"Alayne, why is the little man here again?" Robin asked the woman beside him as he cowered to her in an embrace.

"Hush Robin, I know not why Lord Tyrion is here as well," she replied to the boy.

"Lord Tyrion, old friend. Many of us thought you dead. It been dull these recent years without you, I must say." Bealish said in his mocking tone.

"Truly now you jest, Littlefinger. Are you still in my sister's payroll? Or are you a now owning up to your own cards?"

"I'm afraid I know not of what you speak."

"Regardless of the truth of my statement, I must be honest that I did not come here for you."

"Then what did you risk coming here for? With a band of three men and lady?"

"I have come here to claim my wife," Tyrion replied in a confident and commanding tone. "Sansa, as your husband I command you to come down from that chair and kiss my hand."

No one was reacting, dumbfounded by the Imp's crazy gesture, the knights of the vale knew not how to act.

"What is this you're japing about, Imp? Your wife has been missing. Was she not with you across the narrow sea? Perhaps she's been with someone she truly loves?"

"Lord Baelish, try as you might to hide your weaknesses but it has always been evident. Does it pleasure you to see the face of the girl you once loved? "

"I know not what you speak off. The only woman I loved was my wife, Lysa. Yet she too was taken from me."

"The wife you loved? And killed?" the knights became alarmed and pointed their swords towards Tyrion and his men. But an air of confusion was amongst them. Tyrion's companions kept they hands on their hilts, drawing them if need be.

"You killed my mother!" Robin Arryn screamed the accusation at Baelish. For some odd reason, it was a fact easy to believe.

"Why would you believe this Imp little boy?" Bealish answered him. Alayne, on the other hand tried hard to keep the boy from having a fit.

"Sansa!" Tyrion once again called at Alayne, "Stop this charade this instance and call the guards to seize Littlefinger!"

The knights were frozen. They were waiting for orders from the Lady Stone.

"Alayne, why does he keep on calling you Sansa?" Robin then asked as he embraced her to control his rage.

"Very well Tyrion, You win. Guards, seize Lord Baelish and bring lock him in his quarters." Alayne stood up and released Robin Arryn from her hold. She then pushed Petyr down onto the landing below.

"Knights of the Vale, forgive me for my deception. But it is indeed true that this unfortunate man is my Husband and the Lady with him my sister. Give them food and water. I shall receive them at supper." Sansa then left the room in a hurried gait, with Robin in tow. His cries of inquiry could be heard as they exited the hall.

"You're a Stark!" Aegon exclaimed in private when he was left alone with Cat.

"Truly, my sister knew me well to recognize me underneath all this clothing," She replied.

"And Lord Tyrion and my Aunt knew this?" he inquired further, still exasperated from the revelation.

"Yes, Ser Barristan found me in Essos and recognized me immediately." Cat then began removing her scarf and let her long brown hair flow with the wind.

"It's been so long since I've been in the Eyrie," she said in reverie, "Those were happier times my Prince."

"They certainly were," replied a voice from behind them. It was Lady Sansa herself, coming to join them. She rushed to her sister with tears on her eyes. The reunion was too beautiful to intrude on, thus, Aegon left in silence.

"Had I not recognized you, I would've placed Lord Tyrion back in his old Sky cell." Sansa said with laughter. She dared not hid her joy from seeing her sister after so long a time.

"He was certainly terrified of seeing you again, sister. Drunk himself half to death before we journeyed here from Storm's End."

"Are you certain these people can be trusted Arya?" Sansa asked in earnest.

_Arya_, yes that was her name. She had not heard it for so long. It was so heavenly to hear it from her sister's sweet voice. Sansa was family, no matter their past.

"Yes, sister. I believe they are. I serve Denaerys Targaryen as a member of her Queen's guard. She has known of my identity since our first meeting and has promised me to restore the North to us. I told her I wished not to be a lady, and she merely laughed. She simply told me to offer up all the names I wished to the Stranger and she would be happy." Arya, looked to her sister for reassurance before continuing, "We have the same enemies Sansa, I see not why we would not ally ourselves with them. Certainly, they are the stronger force in this game you all play."

"Aye, certainly. Although I'd wish it better if I need not see my husband too often," Sansa replied jokingly.

Back in the chambers, Aegon visited Lord Tyrion who helped himself to the great library of the Eyrie.

"When did you know Cat was needed for this negotiation?" Aegon inquired demandingly.

Tyrion looked up at him from his book then replied, "I've always known, but I also hoped it not be needed. I did not wish to play all my cards all at once you see. However, I could also not be so cruel to the Stark sisters. Their father was still alive when last they saw each other. And I am almost certain they both saw his head drop at the Great Sept."

"I never knew you to be a compassionate man," Aegon replied, with a smirk on his face. This had gone so much better from what he had expected.

"I am not too compassionate, young Griff, but I do carry some in spare; lest I end up a ruthless man like my father."

Silence followed but was soon broken with a warning. "Although, young Griff, I did not truly account for you coming with us here. Be careful, young prince, and please be weary of your own father's mistakes."

They were called to supper before Aegon could ask further what he meant. Though as he sat on the high table, he knew for certain what it was. Lady Cat was the ghost of Lyanna Stark.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 3: Rivers and Waters

They planned on staying in the Eyrie for a fortnight, but when it was time to leave Aegon made a drastic decision. He came in Tyrion's room while the little man was checking his things before they leave. Lady Stark was in his room. Aegon was surprised with friendly interaction between man and wife. Sansa was helping him with his books and they were having some small talk about Tyrion's adventures across the Narrow Sea. There may not love there, but there was friendship.

"Lady Stark," Aegon greeted her and she smiled at him. It was a kind and benevolent smile. "If I may intrude, may I speak with Lord Tyrion alone." Sansa curtsied and excused herself from the room.

"You seem to be getting along with your wife," Aegon commented.

"I've always been kind to her, and she's more than thankful that I returned her sister to her."

"Returned? You mean Cat's not coming back with us?" Aegon asked with a slight air of distress.

"Lady Arya Stark will be rejoining us at a later date. She has a different task to perform," Tyrion replied pouring them each a glass of wine.

"Arya, so that's Cat's real name," Aegon said to himself in a contemplative tone. "What will she be doing here?"

"Not here, my prince, in the Riverlands. But enough with the little lady, what did you want to ask me?" Tyrion answered handing Aegon the glass.

"I was wondering how much time we had before our plans begin to take place? And if it was possible for me to explore the lands a little bit more? Travelling here to the Eyrie showed me how much of Westeros I did not know of- how foreign I was to this land. I simply wanted to see more of it before I sit on its Throne."

"A very noble thought my prince, but I am certain Ser Jon will have my head if I leave you here to play young griff."

"Have you told anyone who I am?"

"No I have not, out of precaution."

"Then you can say that I am staying as Lady Stark's guard and she can be my guard while I am here," Aegon proposed, "Only until Arya finishes whatever it is you asked her to do."

Tyrion took a while to consider. His eyes narrowed as if trying to figure out the levels of Aegon's intentions. "Although I do believe it is a good learning opportunity for you, I also know that neither Ser Jon nor the Queen would appreciate you being alone in the Riverlands with Lady Arya. It is much too dangerous."

"I'll be safe. I can take care of myself, and I know she can too," Aegon pleaded.

"It is not external dangers I am worried of my prince. Just as Ser Jon Connington so prudently warned you, I am weary of the interests you might hold with Arya Stark."

"How did you know of Ser Jon's warning?"

"Oh, simple, any man who knew cared for your father and you would do at least that."

"You're worried she'll be the death of me as Lyanna Stark was to my father?"

"I will not say it in such terms, but had it been another girl, or had her mission be elsewhere, I would not have bothered to intervene. But this is Arya Stark, and her mission is to seek the Brotherhood without Banners. They are dangerous men, and it is only her safety I can assure."

"Aren't the Brotherhood against the Lannisters? Why would they have cause to harm me if I ride with her?"

"You might make a cause once you meet them. They are a band of peculiar and mysterious knights. People say that among them are the dead and that they do not respect life if they knew you to be among those who killed their masters. The Brotherhood is that dangerous."

"I'll take my chances, I'm sure I'll be fine Lord Tyrion. And if you are worried about the matter with the Starks, I promise I will not touch her first."

"First?" Tyrion raised a brow at the wordings Aegon chose, "Don't touch her at all. She is much too precious to be tangled in a silly love triangle Prince Aegon. Sansa isn't the only Stark sibling we need to please and the other is more fiercely protective of their little sister."

"So you're allowing me then?"

Tyrion gave up on the boy, and finally gave him his permission to stay with Arya. _I do hope you don't ruin things for us young Griff_, he thought as he gulped the last of his wine.

With the rest of their party having gone, Griff became more acquainted with the elder Lady Stark. Sansa had removed the dye from her hair and allowed her fiery locks flow behind her. The look on Robin Arryn's face was that of a child seeing his mother again. She looked very much a Tully as Arya looked like a Stark. Robin Arryn followed the lady around so much, it seemed that the boy was Sansa's son.

"Did you know our Aunt was mad?" Arya once whispered to Aegon when she caught the prince staring at her sister. "She was too obsessed with Littlefinger, but the man was in love with our mother. Sansa looks a lot like our late mother."

"Your sister is quite lovely Cat, are you sure you're sisters? She seems like a very proper Lady," he teased her. The days they've spent in the Eyrie made Aegon more comfortable with his friend. They've become more casual as Arya grew more cheerful by the day.

"Sansa's always been the proper lady. She was supposed to be Queen someday, but luckily that sick bastard never got to marry her."

"The false king Joffrey you mean?"

"Yes, that vile excuse for a boy had Sansa's wolf killed and I had to drive mine away."

"Wolf? You mean direwolves?"

"Yes, our father gave each of us a direwolf. They are much like your dragons to you. They were our companions."

"So is yours still alive?" Aegon asked in a compassionate tone.

"I dream of her sometimes, especially when I was in Essos. I know she's alive, but I don't know how I'll see her again."

"You have wolf dreams?"

"I guess you can call it that. We've all bonded so well with our direwolves that some people even believed we turned into them sometimes. Thus the legend the Frey's circulated about my dear brother, the late king Robb."

"They said he turned into a wolf and turned hostile during the Red Wedding," Aegon related the piece of the story that came to his ears.

"Grey Wind was loyal to Robb, he was a king's wolf."

Aegon stayed silent, choosing to look away to let Arya sink into her sadness. He then turned his thoughts to Sansa. _She was meant to be Queen_, Aegon thought.

They made to ride for the Riverlands after a few days. Arya changed into a more convenient riding costume. She dumped her dress and changed into riding breeches, placed her slim sword on her side and mounted a grey-black horse.

"We'll return here first Sister before we ride back to Storm's End. I shall see you then," Arya bid her sister farewell with a warm embrace before mounting off.

"Young Griff," Sansa called, "please do take care of my sister. She means the world to me."

"I promise my Lady, I will not let a tear fall onto you're beautiful eyes." He then bent down and took her hand and kissed it gently.

Aegon left Sansa blushing and himself not understanding what he just did.

The knights of the vale escorted them down the Giant's Lance and then left them to their devices at the crossing. As they went on farther down the road, they met some more trouble with the hill tribes and lost one horse in the fighting.

"We're lucky we still have one," Aegon remarked after he gave the dying mare a swift kill.

Arya seemed a little pensive and merely brushed off is attempt at conversation.

"We're you always this silent?" Aegon asked, getting bored with the silence.

"No, not always. Though I've learned in recent years that it is better keep my swearing in my head," Arya replied with a sarcastic laugh.

"How come Lord Tyrion sent you to treat with the Brotherhood?" He whispered onto her ear as she held on to the reins. Arya knew the roads better and commanded a horse even better than he. His hold on her was getting tighter and warmer, that he needed something to distract himself from her.

"I rode with them once, five years ago. I still have a very good friend with them," she answered. Aegon noticed a small sign of excitement on her lips when she mentioned her friend. He felt quite unsure as to how to interpret the gesture and moved on with his questioning.

"Do you even know where to find them?"

"I have a good idea where to start. They always went back to this place we're heading to. Surely in at least a fortnight we'll be able to see them. If not, there's always a nice little inn they love as well."

That night they set up a very small camp underneath another large oak tree. It was Aegon's turn to watch and Arya was merely a few feet away sleeping. Aegon looked up at the clear sky and watched the stars. The constellations in Westeros are quite different from the ones he knew, and yet sitting beneath them felt more comforting than ever.

"Aren't you cold?" a voice suddenly disturbed him. Aegon then looked up to see Arya sitting up and taking off her scarf, handing it to him.

"The weather is colder than what I'm used to, but I'm not cold," he replied with a smile. His intense body temperature was one of the few things that assured him that he had the dragon's blood in him. "Aren't you?"

"I grew up in the lands of winter, this is summer weather for me."

"And yet you can feel that snow is about to fall."

"Winter is here, it has been for quite some time."

After two more days on horseback, they reached a clearing where Aegon saw a small hill with a circle of weirwoods.

"We're here," Arya declared to him, "Hollow Hill."

"What do we do now?"

"The moon will be full tonight, I think they'll be here. So we wait."

"Are you scared?" Aegon asked out of sheer curiosity. The pressures of these treaties and alliances were getting to him. He knew it would be a game, but he'd rather play with swords than with words.

"No I am not, I am nervous," but before Arya could finish her answer, they saw horses riding down the clearing. There were at least 15 men in the cavalry. Some of them had proper armor, while some were obviously make shift soldiers. However, one rider took his attention out of the others. The rider was a tall man of great build. He wore a bronze armor and a bull's head helm and carried a war hammer in his back. His focus on the rider shifted to Arya, who seemed ecstatic with the site of the brotherhood. She was about to rush down and meet them but then Aegon noticed the bull rider speed up to them. He was there before any of his brothers. The man dismounted from his steed and picked Arya up as soon as he reached her.

"Arya!" he exclaimed embracing her, "I'm so happy you're alive."

"Gendry," Arya replied, taking of his helm. A shock of black hair against tanned skin came out framing the strong and handsome face of Gendry Waters. Aegon could not help but turn away from the tender moment. It was not pleasing to him unlike Arya's previous reunion. He was almost certain they'd have kiss right then had it not been for the other knights shouting they're own joys at seeing their Lady Arya.

"M'lady! Gods be good you're fine!" remarked an older knight. He immediately knelt in front of her and kissed her hand. "You're mother will be more than happy to see you."

"My mother? Harwin? Or you mean Lady Stoneheart?" Arya replied with a darkened tone, retracting her hand from Harwin and letting Gendry go. "I will be the judge of whether the Lady is still the mother that I knew."

"Arya," Gendry sought to calm her and placed a hand on her shoulder, making her look up to him, "She'll ride here tonight, please be kind."

The love that was once in Arya's face was replaced by a betrayed look.

"I'll see for myself." She then walked a step away from him and moved closer to Aegon.

"This is my friend and guard Griff. Please do him no harm, lest I do the same to any of you who touch him." She spoke addressing everyone in the brotherhood. She spoke with an air of authority that none of them dared to speak out.

Night began to fall and another set of hooves came rushing about. Gendry mounted his horse to meet the small host. Aegon's eyes followed him steadily as Arya did. He met them in the middle of the clearing and he went straight to the center. Aegon saw a hooded figure with a long skirt. She was the Lady the old man was referring to- Lady Stoneheart.

"Wait here," Arya commanded him, "I must see her for myself"

"No, I'll come with you. This is too important for it to be about family Cat."

Arya stared at him for a while in consideration, and allowed him to come with her.

The host dispersed to the Hollow Hill when they saw Arya and Aegon coming. All except Gendry and the hooded Lady stayed.

"Arya," the hooded figure said in a gurgled voice. "Gendry says that you are my daughter Arya"

"I am, and he and Harwin says that you are my mother Catelyn." Arya was hostile; she and Aegon could smell the stench of death emanating from the living corpse.

"I once was Catelyn Tully, until those traitors killed my son and slit my throat."

"I was there that day, I was outside the castle gates and was about to enter. I heard the shouting and screams of the people being butchered inside. And I heard Grey Wind's howls. I was also there that day they chopped off father's head. I saw Sansa fainting and beggin in the stands while the people shouted for his death." Both Aegon and Gendry dare not interject with the conversation. "Let me see what they did to you mother. I shall make them pay, every single one of them." Arya dismounted and left Aegon. She began walking towards Lady Stoneheart who remained still, covered with her hood. Arya took her mother's hand and pulled back the cloak to see the morbid state of her body. Catelyn wanted to look away but her daughter pressed to face her. Tears fell down Arya's face as she embraced her mother's leg. Catelyn went down and gave her daughter a proper hug.

"I never wanted you to see me like this," Catelyn said without the vengeful tone that had come to live with her voice.

"Tell me their names, mother. I shall offer them all to the God of Death. I shall kill them all and bring you peace."

"Dear sweet child. My little Arya, you've grown to be such a sad little girl. I find peace in knowing one of my children lives."

"Rest now, mother. I shall avenge our whole family. I promise you that." Then Arya took out an obsidian dagger and plunged it through her mother's heart. Catelyn seemed to smile as the last bits of life fleeted from her. She finally died in her daughter's arms, at peace with the promise of vengeance.

It was too late for Gendry to react. The young knight went down from his stead and parted Arya from her mother. Aegon did the same and held her as she wept.

From a distance they heard a sonorous howl. It was Nymeria crying with her pack. It took a while before Arya could stand up. And when she did, she took her horse and rushed to hill with Gednry and Aegon following behind trying to catch up with her.

They were too late. By the time they got to weirwoods, Thoros of Myr was dead. Slit in the throat with Needle.

"I lead this Brotherhood now, and as my mother's daughter I shall have you follow me as my pack." The knights knelt and laid their swords before her and swore fealty to her with Gendry at the helm. Aegon stood behind one of the weirwoods in awe of his friend. And from afar the howls got louder beneath the moonlight.

_She's also meant to be Queen_, Aegon thought as he watched in revelry. The two Stark sisters were groomed by destiny for Thrones. Then Aegon's eyes fell on the black haired knight and felt a rival in his midst. _A baratheon bastard who's the splitting image of the usurper Robert_, thought as he watched the affection between Arya and Gendry.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 4: Return to Casterly Rock.

Upon his return to Storm's End, Lord Tyrion Lannister carried both an alliance treaty and a dastardly smile on his face. Having secured the Vale and removed Littlefinger, and confident that Arya will take charge of the Brotherhood, he was certain things were going as planned.

"My Queen, I believe everything so far is as planned," he declared when he was alone with Denaerys and Selmy. "Our young Griff is growing up to be quite the prince, and the Starks are all playing well. My dear Sansa has pledged the Vale to us under the condition of our annulment, which I would more than happily grant her. In addition, Winterfell shall be returned to its rightful heir. Whether it be the bastard Jon Snow or any of her other surviving brothers. I am also expecting a raven anytime soon. I am sure our dear Cat has secured us the guerilla forces in the Riverlands and should be joining us in a few days."

"Well done Lord Tyrion. Little by little the kingdoms of Westeros are rising up to our cause. Everything towards the North is going smoothly and our friends in Dorne are merely waiting to attack the Reach and the Westernlands. I think it is time that you go home Lord Tyrion," Denaerys mused.

"Exactly my Queen, and this will be the first of many great battles to come. Send word to Dorne, I shall take half of our army down and meet them at the Rose Road. We'll take the Reach and while our navy takes over Lannisport. Lady Arya will distract some of the Lannister allies in the Riverlands. King's Landing will be cut off and we'll be marching there soon enough."

Tyrion then took his leave and rested the night away. Come morning, a very sour looking Jon Connington awakened him.

"How dare you leave the life of the prince to a Stark bitch!" the old mad shouted.

"My dear Ser Jon, you give me too much credit in this. I will inform you that it was Prince Aegon's wishes to stay with her," Tyrion replied as he massaged his temples from the headache Ser Jon gave him.

"I will not let another Stark be the death of a Targaryen," Ser Jon declared, grabbing Tyrion by the collar.

"You will not let the boy? He could not even choose who among the Starks he wished to bed!"

"If the Prince dies I'll have your whole body skewered on top of Winterfell."

"I don't understand why you're so against it Ser Jon. It's not like the prince is married or the ladies are betrothed. Did it not cross your mind that perhaps had Rhaegar been allowed to live peacefully with Lyanna Stark a lot of things could turn out differently? Why don't you just let the boy chose on his own?" Tyrion demanded pushing Ser Jon away.

"I failed his father once, I shan't do it to the boy." Ser Jon then stepped out muttering swears against the Imp.

Tyrion fell back once more and contemplated on the story of Rheagar Targaryen. _I wonder why such a love was not allowed to be in this world, yet so many sick loves are._

Within a month's time, the armies of Denaerys Targaryen assembled at the gates of Storm's End. At Dragon Stone her navy also awaited instructions, while the Dornish men of the Martels were already marching up the Reach.

Denaerys came and greeted her host as she rode on Drogon. She gave them a speech saying:

_Today our conquest formally begins. We Dragons shall take over the Lands of Westeros and take back what was ours. We are children of fire and with Fire and Blood we shall rule the seven kingdoms once more!_

_Bear now my people your arms. And we shall ravage the lands, not for glory or for honor, but for our rightful places in this world. I give you now the freedom to fight for me!_

She then commanded Drogon to fly up and blast fire from his mouth. A fire that she knew could be seen a thousand miles away.

Tyrion then rode off with half the army and met with Obara Sand at the Rose road. Ser Barristan also went forth to Dragon stone and led the ships south around Dorne and onto Lannisport and the Sheild Islands.

The Tyrells were forced to vacate part of their host from King's Landing in haste. Mace Tyrell stayed at the Capital while his most trusted commander Randyll Tarly met up Ser Garlan's host to protect the Reach from the invading Targaryen forces. They were only 10,000 strong and were spread too thinly. It did not take long at all for Tyrion to set foot on High Garden and made Willas Tyrell surrender the Reach to Targaryen rule.

While on the western front, things aren't as easy. The Lannister forces may have been concentrated on King's Landing, but his brother Jamie's army of 30,000 men was putting up a fight. Having secured the Reach, Tyrion left some of his most trusted men to hold the castle and rode forth onto his homeland. He also sent a raven to Storm's End for good measure.

Denaerys met him right outside Casterly Rock where Jaimie's forces were making a long but final stand.

"My brother has always been blessed in battle," Tyrion remarked, "Although his motivations have always been a mystery to me."

"You love your brother Lord Tyrion?"

"Of my whole family, he's the only one whom I do love, aside from my sister's children," Tyrion answered, swallowing his nerves as he took Denaery's hand to ride on Rhaegal.

"Then we shall spare him, I assure you."

The pair flew around the towers and Denaerys dropped the Imp at the highest one. "Be careful Lord Tyrion! I'll wait for you at the gates!"

Tyrion waved farewell at his Queen, and waited for Jamie's men to come for him. To his surprise, Jamie himself came alone to face him.

"Brother," the kingslayer greeted him. "I will not lie, I am very happy to see you."

"As I brother," Tyrion embraced his elder brother but then broke his hold. "I hope you'll be wise enough to surrender the Rock to us now Jamie."

"I know this is a losing battle, yet I cannot bring myself to tarnish the Lannister name with defeat."

"The pressures of being our father's son have finally gotten to you, but don't be stupid brother. The dragons have come to rule once more and you better surrender soon than have Casterly Rock burned."

"I'd rather die than be ruled by a family of madmen!"

"A family of madmen? Jamie? What do you call our family?"

Jamie fell silent as he recalled Cersei's current state and the vileness of his own son.

"Open the gates, brother. My Queen is a merciful queen."

And thus, Jamie Lannister opened the gates of Casterly Rock and surrendered. Denaerys came down from Rhaegal well pleased. She sat on the Golden throne of the westernlands. Jamie felt the insult to his family as a silver haired Targaryen sat on his father's throne.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 5: The fall of the River Lands

Meanwhile in the Riverlands, Arya was gathering the Tully Loyalists at Hollow Hill. She had sent parties from the brotherhood to secret treat with the loyal River Lords. Each family sent a son back with the messengers and pledged their allegiance. They had two targets, first was Riverrun itself and second was the Twins. Frey men controlled both castles as Genna Lannister focused on their holdings at the capital. She left her weak husband at Riverrun, whilst the many sons of Lord Walder were fighting about in the Twins.

"They are weak and divided," Aegon remarked one evening as he and Arya were going over the battle strategy they'll be presenting to the River Lords.

"Yes, but we are still out numbered. Many of our allies' sons are still held captive by the Freys, so we cannot be that head on in our approach."

"You want to free them first?"

"If possible, yes. But the prisoners are divided between the two castles. Which one will we liberate first?"

"Why choose? When we can do both?" Aegon suggested, taking a bite at the apple he's been toying with. His idea gave Arya a dark smile of satisfaction. "Our forces are small as it is, so I don't think making it smaller will make much of a difference. Deception and stealth would be our primary weapons in this field. We cannot fight fairly."

"We can divide the forces 2:1. The brotherhood should go on and take the Twins, while I shall cause havoc at Riverrun."

"You alone?" Aegon made Arya face him by turning her shoulder. He held her gaze with an concerned look of worry, while all she gave him was annoyance.

"I can do it Griff. I've done it before. I can turn a castle upside down."

"It's true you know," a voice interrupted at the door. Gendry was there holding a tray of food for them.

"Ser Gendry," Aegon greeted icily. It was not unusual for him to be with them in the evenings. Though with that amount of time spent, Aegon could never get used to him. He was usually quiet, listening to them plan as he sharpened swords.

"But if I remember correctly, Arry. You had the assistance of a criminal named J'aqen Haghar when you last did it."

_He calls her Arry._Aegon noted, her never much liked the familiarity between Arya and Gednry.

"I was child then Gendry, I have much since changed. I think it's time for the little weasel to come out from hiding."Arya replied, taking some of the food Gendry had brought them. She handed some to Aegon, before proceeding. "I had a lot of adventures during our time apart you know," she said with a softer tone to Gendry.

"Where were you the whole time anyway? We all thought you were dead."

"I was in Essos, all around Essos," Arya said with a bit of a laugh, declaring her superiority.

"Is that where you met this fella?" Gendry asked pointing to Aegon.

"No, although Griff's also from there I met him here when I returned with the Dragon Queen."

"Very well, given that you have acquired some of that magical lethal ability your old friend had, I still would not let you go alone," Gendry said in an authoritative tone.

"And who are you to say that to me?" Arya raised her voice at him, ready to strike him in the head. But Gendry merely stood his ground and gave her a growling stare. Arya simply grunted in frustration and stormed out like a little girl.

"You are one brave man Ser," Aegon remarked, phased with what had happened.

"She acts so grown-up, but you'd always know that there's still a silly little girl in there somewhere."

"You seem to be quite familiar with her temper," Aegon could no longer help but ask; he was already much too intrigued. "Are you her betrothed?"

Gendry gave out an exasperated laugh. "Betrothed?" he repeated. "Do you know her at all?"

"What do you mean? Is it not logical? The Baratheons and the Starks have been trying for generations to be united in marriage."

"Oh dear, you do jest," Gendry took a hold of himself when he noticed the vexation on the man's face. "Arya would rather die than be a proper lady. And I, on the other hand, am not a real Baratheon. I'm merely a base-born bastard smith who happened to find adventure in his life."

"I suppose that does make more sense on her part," Aegon mused. "But you are in love with her?"

"As much as you are, Griff." Gendry smiled knowingly. Aegon was caught off guard by the man's insight. He had not even settled his feeling for himself, yet this man knew it all along. "She's wild one you know, it's very easy to fall in love with wild things. But you can never tame them, the best you can do is to have them while they let you." Gendry gave him a pat on the shoulder and took his usual seat, taking the apple Griff was holding and continued with it.

"But she seems so tamed with you," Aegon continued with the conversation. It was quite vexing for him to see Arya so friendly with a rival.

"I wouldn't say tamed. I think It's more like relaxed, but she's still very guarded. She hasn't forgiven me for abandoning her; at least that's what she believes."

"Did you?"

"I really can't remember what was on my head when I agreed to join the Brotherhood. But I am sure certain that I stayed with it cause it was her mother leading us. I truly believed her to be dead."

"Then this gives me a fighting chance then," Aegon remarked with a smile. Gendry returned it and threw him back what was left of the apple.

The next morning, the war council met. It was agreed upon that they would split their guerilla forces and simultaneously attack the two keeps. But as Gendry had demanded, Arya shan't go a alone to infiltrate the castle. Young Griff volunteered to go with her whilst Lord Mallister's forces were to wait close by to storm in when given the signal. Gendry, on the other hand, will lead the Brotherhood in attacking the small Lannister camp near Riverrun. The rest of the River Lords will then attack the Twins.

They were already in place, when they saw Drogon's flames from afar. Little by little they have been poisoning the Frey hold on the Riverlands. And by the time the attacks went on full force, there were very few soldiers left to deal with.

Aegon was amazed with how swiftly Arya caused havoc amongst the soldiers in Riverrun. Each and every death seemed like an unfortunate accident or a mysterious sickness spreading. They simply watched their enemies drop like flies; all in the comfort of the kitchens. It was then that Aegon realized what Arya was. He had heard of this style of killing from the men of the Golden Company. "You're a faceless man," Aegon suddenly mentioned one night when they were alone.

"I cannot be a faceless man as this is my own face."

"But your methods are theirs, are they not."

"If I were a faceless man, Prince Aegon, then I would've been no one. But I am someone, I am Arya Stark."

The next evening, Arya took out the guards manning the perimeters so swiftly and stealthily that no one even knew they were gone. Aegon, on the other hand, opened the gates to Lord Mallister's forces that stormed the castle and captured Emmon Frey. Soon enough, a raven came from the Twins. They have won. The Riverlands were free.

Arya held court at River Run, acting as proxy until her Uncle returns. All the other River Lords have come and sworn their fealty to the Tully's and to the Dragon Queen. It was an ironic site- Arya holding court like a proper lady. Gendry couldn't stop laughing when he first rode in fresh from battle. Aegon, on the other hand, likened her to his great ancestor Visenya. Arya, in his eyes, was a warrior Queen.

The Northmen who were being held at the Twins were immediately brought to Riverrun. They were overjoyed to see their liege's daughter alive and well. Greatjon, as big a man he is, almost fell into tears when knelt at her feet.

"It gives us great pleasure to be kneeling before a true Stark once more, my Lady," Greatjon declared on behalf of the Northmen. "We served your father faithfully as we did your brother. It still keeps me up at night how devilishly he was murdered by those double crossers. The Old Gods bless you my Lady that you have avenged our cause."

"I thank all of you for remaining loyal to my family. We shall march to the North soon, and take back Winterfell and all your holdings. We shall defeat the Boltons, the Flints, the Karstarks, and all those bloody traitor houses who stabbed my dear brother in the back. We shall make the Boltons die a death worse than flaying. We shall claim the North as it once was my Bannermen. Winter is here and I intend to bring it to them full force!" Arya raised her thing sword as she shouted with her Northern Bannermen. The River Lords could not help but join in the battle cry.

Aegon was amazed with the loyalty Arya demanded from her people. But his admiration was disturbed when he saw Gendry sneak out of the Great Hall. He immediately followed him to the Godswood and tapped the man's shoulder.

"Why'd you leave?" he asked bluntly.

"I am happy for our love, Griff, but it is also painful for me to see her for what she really is. She's a woman I can never hope to have." He then turned away and approached the heart tree. Gendry then took a sack that was hanging from his belt and unwrapped an object that seemed like a helm.

"What are you doing?"

"Blessing it," Gendry then took out a knife and made a cut at the trunk, letting red sap spill out onto the helm.

"A direwolf helm," Aegon commented, "how very fitting."

"I've been making it in my spare time. Part of me perhaps felt or hoped that she was alive."

"How can I compete with such a noble heart," Aegon said angrily, seating himself on a root nearby.

"You're not a simple sellsword aren't you?" Gendry asked him.

"Just as you're not a simple bastard," Aegon replied.

"Aye, that is true. But Baratheon or not I am still a bastard, which means I can never be with her."

"You can be if you claim Robert Baratheon's Throne from his false son," Aegon, had many motives with his question. Most are malicious, but part of him could not truly hate the man who was almost his friend.

"I'm not interested in such things," Gendry turned around and sat himself comfortably. "There's too much trouble in these games high borns play. It simply isn't for me."

Aegon was quite satisfied with the answer. He knew that if worse comes to worst, he would have to kill this man. An act he couldn't really reconcile himself with as it would earn the enmity of his conscience and his beloved.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 6: In the North

Bran has been silently waiting in the Cave of the Children. The Three-Eyed Raven has finally expired and has give Bran a mission- to assist the Lord of Light.

"Dragons are back in Westeros," he suddenly uttered, waking up from a disturbed dream. "Arya is with the Dragons."

"Jojen! Meera!," he called from his makeshift bed. The Reed siblings rushed in the room both carrying firewood and some food. "It is time we go forth south, back to the Wall," their lordling declared. "My siblings are alive."

Immediately, the whole cave began getting busy. The Children of the Forest gathered all their dragon glass and stocked them up for transport. It had been quite sometime since they were in the company of men, and they knew not how to prepare for it so they merely scrambled and fetched all they deemed would be necessary.

"Leaf," Bran called out to his little vassal, "I know you are all scared, but I trust you to care for the other Children. I cannot assure you what we will meet in the Wall, but I know that is where we must be."

Leaf gave him what seemed to be a smile and bowed, before going of again to prepare her people. "The Warrior of Light is upon us!" Bran heard her shouting as she scrambled again.

They finally left the Cave after so long and made their way south to the Wall. Bran had Summer go on ahead of them with a letter tied around his neck. "Look for Ghost, and then give this to Jon." The direwolf sped away and disappeared across the snowstorm.

Meanwhile, at the Night Fort, Stannis Baratheon sits in his room staring at the flames.

"The winds of winter are upon us, my lord," Melisandre states, "the white walkers come with them."

"Yes, I know. So much of our forces have died meeting them in battle. It saddens me that I shall see them in the battlefield."

"Fear not Lord Stannis. I see the flames of the Lord of Light burning brightly."

"By the way, Melissandre, how is our young friend?"

"He is still asleep Lord Stannis. I come to his chambers each morning to see if he was still breathing," Melissandre then looked deeper into the flames, "It was lucky of him that his direwolf brought him to us."

"Those men of the Night's Watch can be quite treacherous. I am sure had they more men, they would kill us in our sleep."

"But thanks to their stupidity, the Wildlings have sworn loyalty to you m'Lord."

"A loyalty that will fade once Jon Snow lives. I still cannot place it on myself whether I should kill him now or not. His body grows warmer by the day, it's almost unbearable to touch his skin."

"Fire is in his blood Lord Stannis. I do not think you can kill him so easily."

"Fire, you say," Stannis contemplated on Melissandre's words. _Jon Snow, are you a dragon in wolf's clothing?_


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 7: The King's Road

Sansa calls the bannermen of the Vale to the Eyrie and marches them to the King's Road. There she meets with the Riverlands host and her sister. Soon a raven shall come for them to join Denaery's army and march onto King's landing.

"You Starks inspire so much Loyalty amongst your men, " Aegon remarked one evening he had alone with Sansa. He had come to her tent to get better acquainted, intrigued by how much both Stark sisters are able to command bannerman who were not their own.

"What do you mean, my Prince?" Sansa replied, confused by the statement.

"I mean, how do you get so many people to follow you into a cause without so much as a flinch? The Vale Lords treat you as if you were their liege lord, and the River Lords were overjoyed when they saw you riding up to them."

"I spent quite some time in the Vale, my Prince. Lord Baelish taught me how to play the intrigues of court. He simply didn't account that I might get better at it than he. I held court at the Vale as I cared for my cousin Robin. I formed relations and alliances with all of them. Their hate for my supposed father, came to my advantage. I used that enmity to have a greater influence on all of them. After all, all they saw was a sweet little Lady."

"My dear Lady Stark, you are as dangerous as you sister," Aegon remarked, raising a glass to Sansa's honor.

"As for the River Lords, my features are Tully features. I look like my late mother; she was their little Cat. And they were fiercely loyal to my brother as well. They are all honorable men, thus their loyality shall sit with us until our Uncle or our Grandfather comes back to lead them."

"It scares me Lady Sansa, if you allow me to be so frank," she gave him a smile to proceed, "I am practically a foreigner here in Westeros, yet I expect them to rise up for my crown. My mentors have taught me that the right rule is earned and not taken. How can I be King if I cannot inspire them to fight for my cause?"

"Fight with them, Prince Aegon, and they shall fight for you too," Sansa rose from her seat and approached him. She gave him a kiss on the forehead, and said "Be a proper Prince, like those in legends. We have not seen those for quite sometime."

"My father was a proper Prince, and yet the kingdom rebelled against him," he replied, taking her hand.

"It was not your father per se that lead to the Rebellion. It was your grandfather's cruelty. Had he not burned all those people, I do not think the seven kingdoms would have minded Prince Rhaeger taking a second wife."

"So you believe my father was innocent?" Aegon gazed at her with such serious need that Sansa could not break away.

"He was a man love, and so was King Robert. I don't find innocence in such matters." Sansa broke free of Aegon's hold and returned to her seat.

"Our families seem to have an affinity for each other, do they not?" Aegon remarked with a new smirk on his face.

"Apparently so, but so do the Baratheons." He knew what Sansa meant. She was a very observant woman, and she noticed the interaction between her sister and her favorite knight.

The next morning a raven came from Storm's End. Ser Jon Connighton and the Golden company are marching towards King's Landing. Their other forces are also on their way. They are to surround the capitol from all sides of its walls. Ser Barristan was to come by sea, and Lord Tyrion was to come with Denaerys from the Westerlands. And lastly, Ser Jon inform Prince Aegon that Viserion had gone loose and was headed towards his direction.

Aegon washed the dye off his hair and donned the red and black armor Sansa had brought for him. The Stark sisters, both clad for battle, introduced the Dragon Prince as Viserion landed before them.

"I am Aegon, son of Rhaeger, rightful heir to the Iron Throne. I return to Westeros after years of exile and I must ask you to let me lead you to King's Landing and take back Iron Throne. We are the blood of dragons, come across the Narrow Sea to conquer Westeros once more. I ask you now, people of the River lands," he was answered by war cries," people of the Vale," further shouts came to him, "and people of the North. I know it was you who rose in rebellion against my Grandfather King Aerys; I beg your forgiveness for the atrocities he had committed. Thus, follow me anew and let us liberate King's Landing!"

The men raised their sword and shouted, "All hail Prince Aegon!".

Aegon mounted Viserion, as Arya and Sansa took their horses. They then went on and marched to King's Landing.

_I feel like Aegon the conqueror, flanked by two Queens_, Aegon mused as he glanced back at Sansa and Arya.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 8: The Liberation of King's Landing

"We are here," Tyrion declared to Denaerys as they saw the towers of the Red Keep. "King's Landing my dear Queen."

Denaerys stroked Rhaegal's head and smile, "We're home brother, and it's so beautiful," she whispered to him. Rhaegal gave out a powerful roar before Denaerys mounted him and they flew around the city.

Dany saw the royal army lined up with banners from the crownlands, reach, and westerlands. The gold-cloaked city watch was concentrated at the Keep, whilst the citizens of King's Landing were nowhere to be found. _They must be in hiding, fearing that we'll sack the city_.

Dany then thought of the last night she spent at Casterly Rock. Ser Jamie, the Kingslayer, had requested an audience with her and she allowed him- provided that Ser Barristan and Lord Tyrion were with her. The man who'd killed her father intrigued her. Ser Jamie to her seemed not like the haughty knight he was described. Something was amiss with him. There was worry in his mind, a loving kind of worry. She would have loved to kill this man, but out of respect for Tyrion, she'd spared him. And now, before her kneels the King Slayer.

"Ser Jamie Lannister, what request did you want to ask from me?"

"I am here to beseech mercy for my son," Ser Jamie spoke with such a yearning and humility that Ser Barristan could not believe that this was once the proud knight he knew.

"You mean King Tommen?" Tyrion asked, "So you are now formally admitting that he is your son? Brother?"

"You've always known that Tyrion, and you know of all of them Tommen is innocent."

"Are you certain our sister has not twisted him beyond repair as she did with Joffrey?"

"I cannot speak for Cersei, Tyrion, but please let me beseech your mercy and spare my son. He will be no danger to you, I will assure that. If you wish to exile him please, let me accompany him. But please I beg, spare the child."

"Why would I listen to the pleas of the man who had orphaned me?" Dany spoke with hatred in her voice. She knew how it felt to lose a child, but she cannot reconcile the mercy she should feel with the hate she had for this man.

"Because I believe you are different from me and my sister," Ser Jamie looked up at her with tears welling up in his eyes. Danaerys knew not what to say. Indeed, if she murders the child she would be like the treacherous Lannisters killing her brother's family to secure the Throne.

"And what of your sister-wife?" Dany leaned forward to see Ser Jamie's face clearer. _Will he abandon her?_

"Cersei has fallen into madness. I cannot promise you I can control her, but if you would let me I shall care for her to the end of our days. But I also believe that that might be be asking too much. My primary concern is for my son, your highness."

"Ser Barristan, Lord Tyrion, leave us," Dany commanded. There were more things about this man that she wished to know, things that she could not ask in their presence. After a bit of protest from the old man, the two eventually complied but remained close by.

"Tell me Kingslayer, what happened that day you killed my father?"

A crazed look flickered in Ser Jamie's eyes, "do you really wish to know why I killed your father, your highness?" There was a nervous chuckle in his voice. He was slipping.

"Yes, I want to know if my father was truly mad."

"He wanted to burn everything. He had wildfire stocked up and ready to incinerate all of King's Landing and its inhabitants. He's taking a liking to wildfire in those recent years you see. Forgive me for my words, but I believe I was outside the door when you were conceived. The old king loved to make love after burning people alive. It was too much cruelty, your highness," Ser Jamie's voice was cracking and he was gripping his hair as he told the story in detail. "The screams of agony rung around the court. It was almost every day towards the end. The pyromancers kept on feeding his need for burning. So I killed them. The king and the old pyromancers."

"Was he truly mad?" Danaerys felt a chill go down her spine.

Jamie looked up at her again with a sad smile, "he was just as mad as Joffrey, yet I still love the boy with all my heart."

"Thank you Ser Jamie, you may leave now. I will consider what you ask."

Danearys remained in the throne room till midnight, contemplating on her father and her brother Viserys. They were mad and cruel, but she loved the thought of them because they were family.

From afar, Dany saw Viserion and knew that the Northern half of their forces had arrived. It was time to liberate King's Landing.

The Lannister forces tried to put up a fight. Members of the King's guard led them, but without a figurehead at the helm, their morale was quite loose. The Tyrell men on the other hand, were putting up more of a fight under the leadership of Randyll Tarly. They met the northern forces and protected the gates from invasion. While in Blackwater Bay, Ser Barristan led the unsullied who swam beneath the wildfire chain carrying their swords in their mouths. Easily they took the mud gate by surprise and scaled the city walls. The gold cloaks then met them with as much force as possible.

From afar, Danearys saw Viserion eat up horses and destroy catapults. She noticed that Aegon was not riding him and was probably on foot fighting. Danaerys felt pride with the honor and valor her nephew showed. She herself then descended onto the main gate and made her soldiers give way to Rhaegal's fire. Instantly, the wooden gates went char and broke. Her men took it down and bravely entered the city, greatly inspired by their Queen. She followed them atop Rhaegal and made sure they saw her flying figure. She kept to a certain height, out of range from the arrows and dodging catapults flung at her from Aegon's hill. She stood her ground and waited fro the ground forces to move up the hill. Little by little the gold and red cloaks' numbers dwindled until only those at the keep remained. She saw Aegon's army ridei into the city, while Ser Baristan's half ran a mock up the streets. But then she saw from one of the towers a green liquid was glowing in a giant cauldron. _Wildfire_, she thought and had Rhaegal hurry to the tower. She had him burn the pyromancers before they drop the liquid onto the men below. She then noticed that it was not only that one tower, but each battlement was equipped to throw wildfire onto the invading force.

"Fall back!" she shouted. "They are preparing to bathe us in wildfire! Stand your ground and fall back!" Her men stopped ascending and ran back. She then saw Viserion going towards her, this time carrying Aegon on his back.

"What should we do?" Aegon asked in alarm. Not even true dragons can withstand wildfire.

"We ignite them inside." Aegon and Dany took one side each and set the wildfire ablaze within, killing the soldiers in the battlements. Some of the soldiers panicked and ran away, while some scrambled to throw cauldrons. Thus, burning part of the city. Once, the wildfire was clear, Ser Barristan hollered to continue and their advance up to the Red Keep. The Targaryen forces all met at the gates of the Red Keep and took the castle by storm. Within in minutes the sheer number of the soldiers overwhelmed the remaining troops. One by one the remaining members of the King's Guard were either killed or captured, leaving the weak to scramble away. It was not too soon that they reached Maegor's holdfast and forced the doors open. There, Ser Barristan and Aegon found Queen Regent Cersei Lannister about to drink poison, whilst King Tommen cowered in Margery Tyrell's lap. He gladly surrendered and was given over to the custody of his Uncle Tyrion Lannister, while his Queen was detained indefinitely at her quarters. Cersei, on the other hand, was restrained and dumped straight onto a dungeon cell.

Danaerys Targaryen then made her way into the great hall and sat on the Iron Throne, and beside her stood her gallant nephew, Aegon. It was a day to be remembered. It was a day of fire and blood.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 9: Winter has come

Dany and her council immediately settled in the Red Keep. She had formally named Lord Tyrion her hand and Ser Barristan her Lord Commander. Aegon was named her heir, and no consort has been selected.

Dany's small council was so far made of Tyrion Lannister, Warden of the West, Varys the Spider, Ser Barristan the Bold, Nymeria Sand of Dorne, and Lady Sansa of House Stark. Positions were still in need of filling, but Dany knew they can wait. She had to solidify her hold on her people first, and that was not an easy feat at all.

Seven days after the taking of King's Landing a feast was held in honor of the new Queen. The whole city was given food and wine to celebrate. For the first time in a long time, the poor people of King's Landing had a full meal and were happy. The simple gesture eased their acceptance of the new rulers and they could not care less.

At the dinner feast, all the lords of westeros were summoned to bend the knee to Danaerys Targaryen, and most of them complied. The only ones who dared not to were to Boltons of the North. Roose Bolton had declared, that with the death of Queen Cersei Lannister, the North is to be a separate kingdom from the South and he shall be the new King in the North.

Sansa and Arya suspected the move. It was obvious that the Targaryens will return the North to them. And being the vile man that he was, Roose knew that they would make him suffer worse than the seven hells. Upon swearing fealty, they requested for a host to take back Winterfell and exterminate the Boltons. For their loyalty and part in the conquest, Danaerys gave the sisters Oathkeeper and Widow's Wail; sword that were recovered from Casterly Rock. Danaerys promised them an army of 10,000 men and gave them leave to liberate the North. The Northmen in the feast all cried out in salute and in unison spoke the Stark words, "WINTER IS COMING!"

Once all formalities were over, Aegon tried to look for Arya and bid her farewell. His eyes finally found her drinking at the end of a long table with Ser Gendry and the other North Lords. She was having a drinking contest with Greatjon Umber, and was apparently winning. Aegon hesitated his approach and was then distracted by the site of Lady Sansa exiting the room. He followed her out and called out to her.

"Lady Sansa," Aegon shouted, "where are you off to?"

"Prince Aegon," she greeted and curtsied before answering his question, "there is someone I'd been wanting to visit."

"At this hour? I think it'd be better if I escort you my Lady. That is if you'd have me?" Aegon held out his arm to her and smiled. Sansa willing took it and led him down the dungeons. The Warden stopped them a moment before he recognized who they were. Sansa curtsied and made the man blush before commanding him to take them to Cersei Lannister's cell.

"Oh hello little dove," Cersei greeted with a mad man's smile on her face. "Why have you come to visit me?"

"I only wished to see your defeated face," Sansa answered tauntingly. Aegon was surprised to see this gloating side of her. He kept his distance to give them some privacy, but stayed near enough to protect her from harm.

Cersei would have flung a slap on her had it not been for the chains that detained her. Sansa stood her ground unalarmed by the violent woman before her. "You! I always knew it would be you!. I should have let Joffrey break you into a tiny million pieces!"

"You should probably have, else he'd be the one alive and I dead," Sansa's eyes remained blank as she taunted Cersei. "You once told me that I'd have to whore myself around to fight as a woman does. Well, I'm here to tell you that you were just a lustful whore. I never headed any of your words, yet here I am Master of Laws and you the fallen Queen."

"How dare you call me a whore? I'm certain my brother has taught you all those perversions of his!"

"Lord Tyrion's not my husband anymore, He had our marriage annulled on the grounds of non-consummation.," Sansa's face began to curve into a smile as she continued. "I am still innocent, despite your greatest efforts to ruin me."

"I always thought you were the girl in the prophecy, little dove. _Queen you shall be until someone younger and more beautiful comes to cast you aside and take what you hold dear_," Cersei recited apparently mumbling to herself.

"You've gone mad," Sansa remarked.

"How was I supposed to know it would be that blasted Targaryen. I should have killed all of you young maidens when I had the chance! You! Margery! And that blasted dragon Queen!" Cersei shouted and screamed and tried to break free of her chains.

"Such a pitty, you're highness. But you were never fit to e Queen," Sansa then turned her back and held on to Aegon's arm so that he may escort her back. Cersei's eyes followed her and upon seeing Aegon screamed in horror.

"Rhaegar!"

They remained silent as they walked up stairs and into the gardens.

"I used to be happy here, back when my father was alive. We lived in that tower over there," She pointed to the tower of the hand and Aegon saw a tear fall down her face. "I was so happy when father brought me to court to become Joffrey's betrothed. I wanted to be Queen; it was the only thing in the world that I wanted back then. But after all the tortures this place has brought me, I'd much rather leave for Winterfell."

Aegon now understood why Sansa had to face Cersei in that manner. He could not help but hold her in his arms as she warmly welcomed him. Lady Sansa sobbed and cried in silent whimpers. _They are so different from each other_, Aegon thought, reflecting once again on his feelings for the Stark Sisters. They were however broken from their thoughts when snow began to fall.

"Snow," Aegon remarked in confusion, "the winds of winter have reached this far south."

Sansa looked up and saw more flakes falling, just like the one that fell on Winterfell. "This is not a good sign."

"The Long Night is fast approaching?"

"Yes, and that means the White Walkers will soon come."

They rushed back into the Great Hall and informed Danaerys of the snowfall. All the lords turned their eyes towards the windows and saw the specks of white against the blackened sky.

"The dragon must have three heads Aegon, I wonder where the last one is," Dany said in a serious and worried tone. She held on to Aegon's hand and hoped he'd answer him that Rhaenys was actually alive. But instead of the answer he'd hoped for he said, "We must ride to the Wall."

Meanwhile, at that moment, Jon Snow finally opened his eyes and the direwolves of howled while the dragons breathed their fire.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 10: Salt and Waters

The next weeks were spent preparing to go north. Busiest and most excited were of course the Northmen at court. They have all been waiting patiently to take back their keeps and kill the traitor Boltons. Arya was the one leading them in their preparations. She wore her armor and had Oathkeeper with her at all times. She was perhaps the only woman in the seven kingdoms dressed in a Warrior's garb. She had not slept in days, or more correctly, she could not sleep for days.

On the eve of their departure a knock was heard on Arya's door and Gendry entered without her acknowledgment.

"What are you doing here you stupid bull?" She greeted him with a friendly but tired voice.

"I came to give you this. I finished it a long time ago but I never got the chance," Gendry handed her a helm covered in cloth. Arya unwrapped it and saw Direwolf's head- one that looked like Nymeria.

"This great work Gendry!" she exclaimed, rising to put it on and look at the mirror. "It even looks like my direwolf!"

"I got the idea to make it when I first saw you direwolf."

"You saw Nymeria?" Arya held Gendry shoulders as he sat on her bed. "You saw my direwolf?'

"I pretty much think she is yours. I thought she was you reborn, having thought you dead."

"Where is she?"

"She rides across the Riverlands with a pack of regular wolves."

Arya smiled and embraced him. "Thank you," she looked into his eyes as he refused to release his hold on her. Gendry moved his hand up to her face, and brushed a straying hair away from her cheek. She closed her eyes and allowed him to kiss her.

"Arya," Gendry pushed her away a bit after recovering his senses. "We cannot do this, you know that."

"You kissed me first, stupid. And who says we can't?" She threw him back to the bed in full force and stood up and gazed down at him furiously.

"Lady Arya of House Stark. You can never possibly wed a bastard smith." Gendry did not bother getting up, he knew she'd push him down again.

"And who decides whom I marry?" Arya walks towards the window and sits on the ledge. "My father is dead and so is my brother. My other brothers are no where to be found, so who else but I would choose my match?"

"You're going to be Lady of Winterfell," he argued.

"And are you not going to come with me?"

"No, I'm afraid not. I do not belong there. I belong on the road, travelling."

"Why'd you have to kiss me then?"

Gendry gave out a chuckle before answering, "So that I might know how it feels like, at least once in my life."

Arya did not answer. She was hurt by his lack of willingness to consummate their love.

"I'd chose you over a thousand lords. You know that. You've always known that."

"Even over a prince?" Gendry stood up and walked closer to her. "You are meant for greater things, Arya- things greater than my love. I shan't keep you from these things."

Gendry left her room with a heart full of regret. He kept on repeating the words of the ghost of high heart to him the night before Arya returned. _Your love, you shall see again. But she'll ride with a silver prince who will make her his Queen. Die you shall with the fall of winter's snow. And the wolves will mourn._

Arya cried herself to sleep that night, and clutched onto the helm Gendry left her. "I'll skewer him with needle when I get back, and we'll run off somewhere together."

As Gendry walked away from Arya's room, he saw Aegon leaving Sansa's. It was such a twist of fate that he had to run into him at that very moment.

"Prince Aegon," Gendry greeted.

"Ser Gendry? What are you doing wondering through these halls? Were you with Lady Arya just now?" Aegon inquired, much to Gendry's irritation.

"Same as you, your Highness. What were you doing exiting Lady Sansa's room?"

The men were in stalemate, and they simple sighed and gave in. Aegon, very much liked Gendry's personality. He was fun and did not treat him so regally.

"I was saying good bye," Aegon answered first.

"As was I," Gendry could not figure out whom it was that Aegon truly loved. "I'm getting confused with you? Last time we spoke, you were in love with Arya?"

"I'm as confused as you are!" Aegon remarked, very irate at the straightforwardness of the question.

"They're sister, Prince Aegon. You can only have one," Gendry gave him a stern look. "If you can't chose, I'd gladly help you by spiriting Lady Stark away right now."

"Our armies cannot go on without her!" Gendry simply punched him in the face and walked away. Aegon gladly took it, he knew he was doing wrong and it felt good that someone punched him for it.

"Sansa and Arya," he mouthed as he nursed his bleeding jawline. "Both of them are meant to be Queens."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 11: The melting of Snow

When Melissandre came around to see Jon Snow, she expected him to be asleep and dreaming in his bed. She was certainly surprised when what met her was the young man standing by the window and looking up the morning's snowfall. Ghost was at his usually post, sitting by the bed. He did not even bother to look up when Melissandre opened the door.

"You're awake," she said to call his attention.

"How long did I sleep?" Jon asked without even turning his head back to her.

"Five years, Jon Snow. You are very lucky to have made it out of that deep slumber with no food nor drink."

"What happened to the traitors?"

"Ghost got to you just in time, but they still hold Castle Black, the wildlings rallied behind Lord Stannis and we have been protecting you ever since."

"And the White Walkers?"

"They are getting stronger. More and more soldiers are being converted into Wights. Our numbers have dwindled significantly but we've been holding up."

Jon Snow faced her and Melissandre saw that there was something changed in him. Something that had been asleep has finally awakened. Jon Snow's eyes were no longer the deep obsidian but were now grey with a hint of silver in them. Melissandre approached Jon and handed him his black cloak that had been on a nearby table.

"It's time for you to rise from the ashes Lord Commander," she said draping the heavy fur onto his shoulders and giving him Longclaw as well.

"But first, one of my brothers approaches. I must meet with him outside the wall."

Jon Snow stood up with Ghost in tow, clothed himself properly and went outside the Nightfort. And indeed, at the gates of the wall was Summer, waiting for them.

Jon petted the direwolf and took the letter he held.

Jon then returned to the Night Fort with a wildling welcome. Most of his allies waited for him at the gates, having been informed by Melissandre of his awakening. There, lined up in the path towards the hall was everyone looking in awe and at the end was Stannis Baratheon.

"I'm glad to see you awake," Stannis greeted him. Jon bowed in acknowledgement and took a seat before him.

"The dragons and my sisters are on their way back North," Jon declared much to the ire of the _Rightful King_.

"I know a raven from one of my spies came this morning about it. And I suppose you dreamt of them coming that is why you've awakened?" Stannis was not amused by Jon's interest in the dragons. Stannis knew that once the Targaryens came, his army had no chance at all of fighting.

"No, I felt it. I felt like I was burning but my body did not set fire because I was ice within," Jon Snow looked at his exposed hand. Noticing only now that he had neglected to wear gloves.

"And what do you suppose we do about them? Welcome them here at the Night Fort? I dare say not!" Stannis knew what Jon was asking, but he would not give up his claim, not even in the face of dragons.

"Then I shall meet them at Winterfell," Jon turned his back on the sour King and most of his wildlings followed. Melissandre watched him intently as he disregarded Stannis' threats to have him killed. _Jon Snow, are you truly of Ice or of Fire?_ She thought as she noticed the room grow colder upon his absence.

Jon mounted a steed of pure black and gathered the people who were willing to follow him. Most of them were simple people but they were certainly good warriors. They went with him and marched to Castle Black. Jon had to take back what was his before marching home.

Upon arriving at the even more dilapidated fort, Jon noticed the Ravens flying about and hoped that Sam had returned from the Citadel. It would be very nice to have Sam back- to have at least one person he could trust.

The blizzard set in while they were a mile away from the gates of Castle Black. It seemed impossible to go through, yet Jon did and his soldiers followed. The stormed the Castle in the guise of snow and captured all those that betrayed him. Jon had the lead ranks killed and burned. He then sent out scouts for his forces to gather at Castle Black. Sam, having been back and feeling trapped in his tower, more than willingly complied with the order.

"How far away are they Sam?" Jon asked a few days later.

"The dragon Queen's host?" Sam was chopping meat for his ravens atop his tower, and was busy tending away the flies.

"Yes, of course, who else would I mean?"

"They're a weeks ride to Winterfell. I believe the Northron lords are already scrambling." Sam then kept on blabbering about how the Umbers have gone back to their keep after Jon was stabbed, and how this house and that house were not certainly loyal to Dreadfort, but then something caught Jon's attention.

"What did you say again Sam?" Jon held Sam by the shoulder and took his attention. Sam was nervous and answered hesitatingly, "I said, Lord Manderly was claiming that he had a Stark in his house."

"You mean he has one of my brothers?" Jon could not hide the hope in voice when he heard the possibility of Rickon also being alive.

"I guess, but I've not confirmed it," Sam did not want Jon's hopes up. Jon then started to laugh and giggle until it became a full-blown laughter. He looked up at the falling snow and shouted "Winter has come!"

"Have you gone mad Jon?" Sam asked worriedly.

"Don't you understand Sam? I thought I was the last of us, and now we're all alive, except for one! They thought us dead yet we all live!"

"Well you're not the only murdered children who turned out to be alive," Sam remarked.

"What do you mean?" the smile on Jon's face disappeared and he felt a looming discomfort in his belly.

"While I was at the Citadel, I found out that the son of Prince Rhaegar Targaryen has conquered the Storm Lands. Last I heard too was that he's riding with the Queen here."

"I don't understand why that's important Sam?" but Jon's thoughts betray him. There was a fire awakening in his blood with the mention of Aegon.

"I mean, the balance of power is shifting yet again Jon. So many surprises have come out in the open."

"Don't worry Sam, if my sisters ride with him, I am certain I can trust that man." Jon then gave his friend a pat on the back and excused himself to his quarters.

He did not understand the kind of feeling Aegon Targaryen was bringing him, thus he turned his mind on something else. Bran and Rickon were both alive, and he is yet to see them again. He had to reunite with his family in Winterfell, he was certain of that. Though he did not know why, but he just felt it was right.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 12: The Greenseer cometh

Bran guided his party through the winds of the heavy winter as they made towards the Wall. They'd caught some trouble along the way, but managed somehow to reach the black gate in tact.

"This is it Leaf," he said looking down at one the children, "I'm sure they'll be certainly surprised to see you guys, so take care of them please?"

"Yes, boy, we will be careful," replied the tiny creature.

"Knock on the gates Hodor, three times," Bran commanded as he looked behind to see the rising moon. "Jon should be there on the other side."

Hodor did as he was told and after a few seconds the gates were raised and before them was Sam with Summer beside him.

"Samuel Tarly, if you remember," the fat maester greeted them in.

"Where's Jon?" Bran demanded, disappointed with not seeing his brother right away.

"Jon was temporarily detained I'm afraid. Follow me, I'll bring you to where you should be" Sam led them not to Castle Black, but to a smaller encampment outside the walls. It seemed partly abandoned but was functional. Gilly appeared with firewood and smiled at them to come in.

"This is Gilly's hut," Sam said introducing them to the sweet-faced wildling. "It's not much, but the other Crow's will not notice you much here. There are still treacherous wenches among our ranks, and Jon would rather that you stay hidden for a while."

"Fine, but tell Jon to come to me immediately. I have some important things to discuss with him." Bran demanded quite irritated with the treatment his brother had given him.

Meera then handed Bran a small sack and the face of anger disappeared. Bran looked at it and motioned that she hand it to Sam. "Please, bring this to him right away. I'm afraid he's not understanding his position in this war."

"Okay, of course I will," Sam took the sack and smiled at the Bran and the children, "I'm sure he'll come to you at the dead of night. But for the meantime eat up, Gilly's prepared something nice for you."

That night Bran entered Summer and made his way around the encampment. He looked around and studied their new surroundings before turning around to find Ghost. Silent as ever, the white wolf was. He was merely sitting on the snow, patiently waiting for Summer to come to him. They greeted each other with sweet rubs on their faces and a few licks. Ghost then led summer to where Jon Snow was.

"Bran," Jon said, speaking through Ghost. "I know you can hear me, but I can't seem to hear you."

Summer nodded a yes.

"There's something I don't understand, Bran. I don't exactly understand what we are here to do? It's still too dangerous though for me to come to you, but I must ask you to be prepared to run to Winterfell in a week's time. We'll all be together again."

Jon then stood and left with Ghost. Bran left Summer as the direwolf made his back to the hut. He also felt it- the fire in Jon's blood began to burn.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 13: The Banners assembled

Having been called to arms by their new Queen, most of the Southron Lords called their banners and marched onto King's Landing to answer the call. First to arrive was the Tyrell party, led Garlan Tyrell. They were small, having been heavily damaged by the war and their prospects uncertain. It was quite obvious what their intentions were. The Lannister army remained at the Capital and at Casterly Rock. The men were too exhausted from the years of war.

Next came the Dornish men, the whole Royal Family came with their bannermen. Doran Martel presented his daughter Arianne to the new court and the eldest four of the sand sisters armed for battle- they were to lead the march.

None of the Storm Lords came, as most of their forces were already up north, but the ladies of the castles sent gifts and supplies to show fealty. And as for the River Lords and the Vale Lords, they took earlier leave to head back and collect their men. They will be meeting the Royal Army at the King's Road.

Everything was ready. Danaerys and Aegon looked out from the highest tower, amazed at the numbers that have come.

"It was not even a decade ago that I was running around city to city, begging for shelter with my brother," Dany said in a sad revery.

"And I was in hiding, dying my hair blue as I moved around Essos."

"Yet, here we are now Aegon," Dany took her nephew's hand and smiled at him, "We have returned and conquered Westeros."

"The goods were good to us, your highness. And yet I know you feel that this place we're going to is the place of our destiny," Aegon gripped her tightly and looked towards the North. Fear was in his heart and fire was in his blood.

"We shall melt the Snow and bring Fire across the land," Dany then stepped on to the ledge and summoned Drogon, She jumped on him and soon followed Rhaegal and Viserion. The three dragons flew in circles around the people, giving them hope that they will return safely to a warm summer.

Aegon then looked towards the North and saw the Stark host moving together. Danaerys had given Arya Stark the command of a good number of her own soldiers to retake the North. Arya took no time to have them ready, well clothed and packed. The men were being assembled, to be briefed about the journey ahead. They have agreed that the Stark host will leave 2 months before them as they prepare everything to go further North beyond the wall if need be. Aegon, flew down to have a few words with the warrior Lady Stark.

"Arya?" he tried getting her attention as her saw her looking at maps and plans with the Northron lords. Arya looked back to see who it was, and the lords began to bow their heads.

"Prince Aegon," she greeted, mustering the best curtsy she can do, "What service can I do you?"

"I wish to speak to you before you leave," he looked at her coldly, hiding what was on his mind. "In private, please" he added and motioned for Arya to leave with him.

He took her onto Rhaegal and flew off to nowhere.

"What is it that you wish to talk about?" Arya asked when Rhaegal was in steady altitude. It was her first time riding a dragon. It was so exhilarating for her that she forgot for a second why she was there in the first place.

"I've been bothered about something," Aegon began, glancing at her a bit before turning his gaze back onto horizon. Arya face was softer that it had been, but it was sad. "I've been drawn to you; I don't know if you've noticed or you truly care, but I have been. I don't exactly know myself what I'm asking for right now, but…" Aegon paused a while, uncertain of Arya's silence. He chose to continue anyway, "I guess, all I want to say is, please stay alive."

Arya giggled as she held on to his shirt. It was the first time he'd heard a childish giggle from her. "Your highness, it's quite thoughtful of you. But I think you've known by now that I do not have any dreams of becoming a lady."

"Have you promised yourself to another then?" Aegon asked suddenly without thinking.

He felt a sigh leave her- a deep melancholic sigh. "I promised myself to the God of Death, I belong to no one." She answered in such a deep and dark tone that it felt like she was detaching herself entirely.

"No, you're not no one," Aegon said stopping Rhaegal in midair to face her. He stroked her face and made a gentle look appear and smiled at her, "You're Arya Stark. The warrior queen." She looked away and blushed, but the sadness in her eyes did not leave her.

"I'll consider your highness, but I don't think I'm comfortable with you making the same suggestions to my sister."

Aegon fell silent. He was guilty of what she accused, but not to the same degree as she was implying. "Sansa is wonderful, I will admit that I cannot decide which one of you I truly care for. But it does not diminish my feelings for either of you."

"You're a greedy man my Prince. You are not Aegon the Conqueror but Aegon, sixth of his name, son of Rhaegar," Arya whispered into his ear in a sultry tone that brought an ecstatic chill down his spine.

"A man does not chose who he falls in love with. I am the son of Rhaegar, I think myself to be unhappy if wed not for love."

"And I a woman with Wolf's blood who cannot be tamed," Arya took the reigns from Aegon and led Rhaegal wildly spinning down onto the ground. Aegon felt like he was trapped in a whirlwind and felt exhilarated with the rush of air onto his face.

"You are a wild one," he remarked laughing as he took back the reigns and headed back to camp.

Once the Northron host left, Aegon kept himself busy in the war room with Danaerys. He tried to keep his mind away from Sansa, having proposed to Arya instead. She did not seem to mind and had a string of other suitors who try in vain to grab her attentions. He was simply among them, he thought. After the other night, it became obvious that it was not mere friendship he was offering. Aegon began to recall what had happened as he watched Sansa walk in the courtyard with her maids in waiting. She was taking a leisurely walk, obviously saddened by her sister's departure.

"The other ladies in court will not like it that you've taken a habit of visiting my quarters your highness," Sansa told him when he knocked on her door. She was already dressed in her evening garb and was brushing her hair. She let him in, poured him some wine and went back to what she was doing.

"I do not like their company as much as your, my lady. They're too obvious in their desire in conversing with me. It's quite annoying frankly," he remarked and took a gulp of the wine.

"Oh, you mean you do not like the attentions your cousin has been paying you lately," she commented with a sly tone and looked at him from her mirror. He was leaning by a window ledge and looked utterly disgusted with the mention of Arianne Martell.

"I know what they are trying, believe me I do. But as much as the princess is beautiful and fatally intriguing, I am not drawn to her." Aegon took another gulp and waited for her opinion on the matter.

"There are other ladies in court whom I am sure would make a lovely match for you," Sansa replied, not looking at him. She was still trying to keep busy with her hair.

"Is there really a highborne lady in the court who can make me want her?"

"You don't have to want her your highness, she simple has to be an advantageous match. And most certainly, Arriane Martell is such a match."

"Why'd you say so?" Aegon approached her and stood behind her. She faced him and placed the brush onto her mantel.

Sansa smiled at him before answering. It was a kind and sisterly smile. "She's to be the ruling princess of Dorne. She's probably higher born than all the ladies. She commands a great army and controls much of trade. Politically even, she would be quite advantageous."

"But Sansa, if you put it that way, wouldn't you be the best match for me?" He looked into her eyes and kneeled down to level with her. He touched her hand but she moved away and turned her back to him.

"I belong in the North," she said, distancing her self from him. "I haven't been there in a long time but it is my home. I don't enjoy the politics of the court. It has taken too much from me already."

"And yet you're so good at it," he commented wryly, finishing what's left of his wine.

"Yes, and still I don't love it. The last thing I want to become is Cersie Lannister herself." Sansa said it with such hate and condescension that Aegon felt even more how much Sansa needed to face the Cersei that night.

They were so alike in so many ways. Sansa was expected to marry Joffrey, as Cersei was to with Rhaegar. They were both cast aside for more suitable matches and yet the new kings to be are proposing to them because of political reasons. Aegon saw how much Sansa feared her own self. She did not want to become a shadow of the golden whore.

"I'll tell you this Lady Sansa, I will only marry for love," Aegon then made his way to door. He knew it in his heart that he could not swear his love to her. He has been too conflicted and still could not make a choice.

He held the door open and heard Sansa whisper, "but you do not know which of us you love."

He continued on out of her room and then bumped into Gendry.

His foster father, Ser Jon, then called Aegon's attention. The old man had a reprimanding look on his face. He did not like what Aegon was doing.

"Aegon, come take a walk with me boy," he demanded. Aegon followed obediently and silently listened to Ser Jon's talks about duty and honor and sacrifice. "You cannot go on about flirting like that with both the Stark sisters!" he chastised the prince. "I was against it from the start! I told you to be careful with Lady Arya. And yet you're going to let your lust get the better of you as your father had!"

"Lust?!" Aegon shouted back angrily at the mention of his father. "You mean to say that my Father, the all honorable Prince Rhaeger whom you so highly talked of, ran off with Lyanna Stark out of lust?!" Aegon was outraged. He knew deep within what Ser Jon had felt for his Father but could not forgive the slight.

"Whatever Rhaegar felt for that woman, perhaps only Arthur knew. But I am sure Rhaegar forgot his duty to his family and to the realm. It was selfish of him to do so." Ser Jon felt it useless to keep on lecturing the prince and simply walked off.

Aegon then headed back to his room and slept his anger off. The next morning his new squire came in and dressed him for battle. The pitch-black armor with rubies was obviously Gendry's work. He took the dragon's head helm and rode off with his sword at hand. Duck was waiting for him at the yard, prepared to fetch him a horse if he chose to ride instead of fly. His old friend wore a proud smile as Aegon approached him.

"You're truly the Prince now, Young Griff." Duck then gave him the horse and they rode off to meet the men. The dragons were to come with Dany as the army was lead by Aegon on horseback. Rhaegal flew closely to him as they rode North but high enough to be practically undetected. Aegon simply felt the flame in his blood burn stronger. The army of a 30,000 men all followed him North.

Sansa stayed in the Red Keep and looked towards the North, praying for all those she loved to return.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 14: The Night's King

Of the hundreds of castles on the wall, some remained loyal to Stannis Baratheon and some to the Night's watch, while most have changed their allegiances to Jon Snow alone. The Lord Commander has reluctantly become the leader of wildlings and the Northron soldiers who've sought refuge in the Wall. Many of the black brothers in Castle Black have sworn loyalty to him, while those who are loyal to those who betrayed him have fled. But within the ranks are still traitors waiting to strike.

Jon's hold on his men has been shaky since his recovery. Much of the crows are still displeased with the wildlings taking root in the wall. Jon simply cannot look weak. He's hidden Bran for the moment. Among the accusations his traitors dealt on him was that he was a warg. True as it may be, it was a fact he'd rather not confirm and having a greenseer brother is a wildcard he's not willing to play as of yet; not to mention the creatures Bran has brought with him.

Jon spends much of his time organizing the few men left on the wall. He's been sorting them into those he'd leave and those he'd take with him to Winterfell. He's not quite figured out what to do with his falling out with Stannis Baratheon, but feels that Melissandre can be more easily persuaded. He sits on his desk, contemplating heavily at the map before him. The winds have been growing colder and colder by the day. It could only mean one thing; a full-blown attack from the Others could not be far ahead.

"The snowfall is getting thicker, the ravens have been having a difficult time getting through," Sam declared, entering the room with some food for Jon. "Everyone seems to be ready. The wildling tribes are more than willing to die for you, you know."

"I don't understand it either Sam. I don't know what I am meant to do," Jon took a bite of bread and settled back on to the back of his chair.

"They call you the Night's King already, Jon. You're the King on the Wall."

"I'm a bastard Sam, I'm no King."

"But that's not what your brother says. Gilly tells me that he's still insisting to talk to you face to face- that you must not worry about him Jon"

"Bran's a cripple, I can't have him harmed in any way."

"Yes, he's a cripple, but a cripple who survive beyond the wall for 5 years."

Jon thought of what Sam had said long after his friend left. Bran is special; for some reason all of them have been turning this war around. His sisters are working magic in the south while his brothers were about to topple the North. All of them are to meet in Winterfell soon, after all those years- they were going home.

He then, in a fit of impulse, summoned a trusted soldier and sent for Bran and Melissandre. He was certain she'd come and leave Stannis altogether. She's been drawn to him- to his blood. Jon felt that somewhere in the flames and crows was the answer to his Kingship.

In the dead of the night, Bran and Melissandre came and met with him at the Great Weirwood. "You sent for us, Night's King," Melissandre spoke as she walked towards in, kneeling before him. She looked like blood spilled on the snow with her wine-colored hair and blood-red robes. Bran was on Hodor and had Summer with him. The direwolf got aggressive as the woman approached but Ghost apprehended his brother. Bran glanced at the priestess with distaste and looked to Jon Snow. "Jon the Night's King; quite fitting."

"Shut it you two, I am no King," Jon said annoyed by their regalities and sat himself on one of the roots. He held onto longclaw and thought deeply on how to phrase his questions.

"And yet you feel the Fire in your blood and the Wings on your back," Melissandre said.

"And the cold seeps into your soul with the Wolf's blood in your eyes," Bran replied. The two seers seemed to have a duet of sort in explaining to Jon his condition.

_You are of Fire… of Ice… and soul come together… You are of the blood of Kings, and you are the King… _Jon heard their thoughts in his head. It felt like listening to the hissing of voices. He opened his eyes and looked straight on to the two seers and stood up.

"The other dragons are coming," he declared onto them.

"And you shall ride with them," Melissandre answered.

"And you shall strike your sword onto the Queen's breast and set it a flame with your Brother's fire," Bran added.

"In the south you were born, and in the North you lived," Melissandre added, "You are the dragon in wolf's clothing. You are the blood of Westeros."

"Jon, you are the Night's King."

The cold, blistering winds stilled that night and eerie warmth was felt in the North.

Back in Greywater Watch, Howland Reed and Maege Mormont are dining their last meal in the holdfast. Tomorrow, they march to meet with Arya Stark's army in the King's Road. Maege held on to the scroll given to him by King Robb.

"I hope the Bastard on the Wall Lives," the old woman said, "I'm quite ready to swear him fealty."

"That boy, from the moment I saw him, was meant for greatness," Howland replied. "I just hope my own children are still alive and well."

"I'm sure they are, if you feel them living, then they must be so."

"Aye, and destiny come upon us all."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 15: The Wild Wolf in the North

Rickon had been hiding in Lord Manderly's Keep these five years. One night, he dreamt his sister Arya returned from Essos with the Dragon Queen. The lad of 13 rose from his bed, made his way to the Lord's chambers and announced, "It's Time."

Rickon has grown much since he last saw his siblings. With his height reaching that of Robb's and his red hair a mess around his Tully face, Rickon was the ghost of his King Brother. It also did not hurt having Shaggydog on tow everywhere. The people allowed to see him fell in awe of his stature. None other than the great blackfish Tully had taught him well in the martial fields. Rickon was more than prepared to retake the North in his family's name.

"Lord Brynden," Rickon knocked onto his granduncle's room. Lord Brynden escaped from Riverrun and was smuggled into Lord Manderly's territory. Since then, he has been tutoring Rickon in memory of King Robb. "My siblings are about to reach the North."

"And we shall meet them in Winterfell young wolf," the old man replied. His room was filled with drafts and maps of Westeros. The old soldier had been spending all of his time planning vengeance on the Lannisters and Freys. And he wanted to start by raising the Kingdom of the North once again.

"Most of our enemies in the South have been defeated," Rickon stated, "all those who are left are the traitors here in the North."

"But most of them live. We shall finish this here and then I shall seek your brother's true heir."

"You mean his child with Queen Jeyne? Do you even know where she is?'

"Her blasted mother shipped her off somewhere. I promised Robb that I would care for her and I failed. The least I could do is to return her to his Castle."

"I feel it Uncle," Rickon replied, "I feel that we will all get our vengeance."

Rickon, Brynden, and the rebellious forces of the North rode the next day and began facing the traitors in battle. One by one, the keeps of the Karstarks, Flints, and Hornwoods fell; their men rushing to the Stark cause. It was not long before they were at the gates of Dreadfort.

"Let met go in alone," Rickon demanded from Lord Manderly and the Blackfish. "I shall kill the traitor myself."

There was not much they could do. The wolf's blood in Rickon's eyes flurried like a blizzard. He seemed to have fangs, baring his teeth, and shaggydog growled and howled beside him. The pair walked on and faced the arrows of the Dreadfort with no trace of fear in sight. The speed of their attack took the Bolton men by surprise. The site of Robb Stark's ghost walking before them with an enormous direwolf ripping their throats sent them into panic. Rickon and shaggydog ripped through the gates and onto the great hall where Roose stood alone, abandoned by his banners. All the other traitor lords had slit their own throats than feel the wrath of Robb Stark's vengeance.

"They're fools," the old man greeted him, "I knew for certain that you could not be a ghost. You're the Stark pup, Rickon."

"You guessed right, Lord Bolton. I believe the last time we saw each other was when you answered my brother's call to arms."

"True, that was the last time I saw you in Winterfell."

"Surrender traitor and let me deal you your punishment."

"Will you behead me yourself? Like your father used to do?" Roosed sneered at him, taunting him to act brashly.

"No," Rickon replied, grabbing the old man by the neck. "I will not give you such an easy death." Shaggy dog then bit through his flank and left a gaping hole in his abdomen.

"Shaggydog, drag him back to Winterfell. I think Arya will be quite happy to torture you."

The pup has grown and is now ready to head home and meet his sister.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 16: The Wolves of Winter

The cold winds grew harsher as they got closer to the North. The snow had fallen deep in their paths and no amount of fur could truly keep them warm. Arya could not wait to feel the warmth inside Winterfel's springs. It would be but a few days from now before she reaches her homeland. Behind her was an army so large, she needed only a fraction of those men to conquer the castle. The Northron Lords have left to go and retake their keeps and free their families from the Boltons, while some of the River Lords who came with her went further North onto Dreadfort to treat with the Manderly Forces. The news of Rickon alive and well almost brought Arya to tears. She immediately sent men ahead as reinforcements incase he needed them. However, much of the Royal Army she'd brought with her was suffering from the cold. These men were born and raised in the dessert heat; the winter winds were getting too much for them to bear. She would have to retake Winterfel soon if they were to survive.

The counsel given to her by Lady Mormont and Lord Reed made Arya all the more confident in retaking the North. They had with them a letter from Robb, decreeing his choice of heir. Arya felt more of the North in her veins. She was not retaking this for Danaerys, but for the her family- the Kings and Queens of the North. The Wolves were meant to rule the harsh winter as the Dragons were Lords of the summer. She would decide later on how this would play out, she had more things to think about.

Arya's heart began pacing as she felt the Wolf's blood in her veins throb as they neared Winterfel. No bastard of Dreadfort will keep her from going home. And she has an especially well thought out thank you for the horrid Ramsey Bolton. She knew that none of those she loved would be there, nor would the people from her childhood. But Winterfell is nonetheless home. _There should always be a Stark in Winterfell,_ she thought as the towers came into view.

A rain of lit arrows and steaming oils met them, but they were prepared. There was nothing that Ramsey Bolton could ever hope to do. Every side of Winterfell was under siege. She saw ravens flying out, probably asking for help. But Arya was certain that Rickon is doing his work at the Dreadfort. Their plans may have been well thought out, but Winterfell was still one of the great strongholds of Westeros. A heavily armed and manned Winterfell was a formidable obstacle. But fear was greater than any wall. The Bolton banners quivered with their approach. Man after man ran screaming away trying to save himself as the Stark host came closer and closer with Arya at the Helm. She walked towards the gates of Winter with her Direwolf helm and Oathkeeper. It seemed like death walked with her as she slashed and walked forward without so much as a frown at the blood on her armor.

Howland Reed observed the young Lady of Winterfel and felt a chill in his bones. _She looks like the vengeful ghost of Lyanna Stark. She is death walking among us,_ he thought. As beautiful and bright as the former Lady Stark was in her days with them, Howland could not help but imagine her wrath had she lived long enough to see the aftermath of Robert's Rebellion. _Is that you, my lady, reborn? _But then again, Howland saw Arya's precision and coldness and retracted that thought. _No, Lady Arya is more like the Winter's Wind come to take away the lives of those unprepared. _ He looked around and saw how easily they were winning. It did not take long before the white snow was red with blood and on the gates, burned to a crisp was Ramsey Bolton hanging. Arya has retaken her family's home and no sits on the Winter Throne as Queen in the North.

_Soon my brothers will be here, and we shall all be together,_ Arya told herself that night as she curled up in her old room underneath the furs. It had been almost a decade since she was here and it has also been that long since she was a little girl and happy.

Rickon arrived the next day with Roose Bolton barely hanging on to dear life. He brought him before Arya and the other Lords of the North to stand trial for his treason. He was bleeding badly, poorly bandaged from the wound shaggydog had so willing placed on him. Jon was also on his way, he was but a few days ride to Winterfell. Arya decided to leave him with the decision of mercy onto Roose Bolton.

Jon arrived with a very small host of wildlings. He rode on a black steed with ghost running beside him and the old bear's crow flying above him. Jon was prepared to take Winterfel back in case the Arya in the rumors proved to be another pretender; but joy took him over when it was Rickon who met with him on the road. It was unmistakable; he was exactly as Robb had looked like when he was at that age. Jon almost felt tears run down as he recalled his favorite brother; guilt still runs deep within him for not deserting the watch and helping him. Had he been who he was now, Robb would probably still be alive.

"Rickon!" Jon shouted, overly joyed. He began to speed up towards his little brother's waiting figure. But Summer outran him and Ghost to Rickon. The direwolves have missed each other as much as their masters missed themselves. It was not long before he heard another set of hooves running along fast behind him. It was Bran, very much excited to see his baby brother all grown up.

"Jon! Bran!" the little boy shouted and waved. "Come quick! Arya's waiting for us at home!"

_Home,_ Jon's tears could no longer be kept as the high walls of Winterfell came into view. _Father, Robb, everyone… we're all back._

Arya met them in the Great Hall with the other Northron Lords. A feast was ready and everyone was overjoyed to see another Stark alive and well. None of them were expecting Bran to be alive. No one had heard a thing about him all these years, nor the little creatures who were with him.

"I've been keeping your seat warm for you, Jon," Arya greeted him with a very warm embrace.

Jon laughed as he saw her in a proper dress, although with a breastplate on its bodice. "I can see that Lady Stark. I'm very happy, over joyed really to see that you're well."

"Arya! you're still as feisty as ever!," Bran was seated on a comfortable chair making Arya dip down to embrace him. "You two look so much like them you know," he whispered into her ear with a knowing tone.

"Sansa sends her regards, she couldn't come with me back to Winterfell. The court needs our lovely Sansa," Arya said aloud instead of replying to Bran.

"Such a pitty, I was hoping to see how much she's changed. Of all of us, Sansa's the only one I haven't been seeing in my visions," Bran replied.

"Well, I would say she's not as stupid as she used to be. Sansa's quite the _lady_, if you know what I mean," Arya laughed at the thought of her sister's former frivolities. "But we can talk of that more later, you and your men must rest. And of course, I formally welcome you back to Winterfel, King Jon, first of his name, King of the North, the Riverlands and the Wildlings?" the wildlings behind Jon snickered at the thought of a crow being their king, but it was true and they all forced him into it.

"So Robb did make me his heir?"

"Yes, your highness," Lady Mormont came forward with Robb's handwritten proclamation that she has kept safe all these years.

"I see, and what does the dragon Queen think of this?" Jon asked looking to Arya.

"I shall have you two settle territories on your own, she'll be here soon anyway to aid the Night's Watch."

Jon fell silent. The terror beyond the Wall was as true as ever. It would be the greatest of helps if the Dragon Queen came North and helped them in their fight.

He then smiled and addressed his court, "We are all children of Westeros, these matters of Kingdoms can wait until after the War with the Others have been won. We of the North will give the Southern leaders a great warm welcome and treat them as our brothers. I trust my sisters' judgment and I shall trust the sincerity of the Dragon Lords! Let us rest and feast this evening for the return of the Wolves in Winterfel!"

All those within the hall bowed their head before Jon and chanted, "All hail the King of Winter!"

Meanwhile in the South, the last of the wolves was busy manning what remains of the court. Sansa had been sitting on the Queen's seat while Tyrion was on the Iron Throne. Man and wife they seemed, but they all knew they were not. She had been bothered by the lack of stability amongst the people. The Martell's for one have been the most difficult to control. Arianne Martell was certainly displeased with her power and the whispers about her _infidelity_ with Prince Aegon have been widely circulated. The other members of court unallied with the Martells, however, have been trying to get onto her good graces. The same families who shunned her and her father all those years ago were falling on themselves trying to please her. But as the winds grew colder in the south and the snow kept on falling, darkness kept on bothering Sansa.

"Do you believe in Prophecies, Lord Tyrion?" she asked him one night over dinner.

"What kind of prophecies my dear?"

"Like the one about the Lord of Light and the Prince that was Promised." She was rather pensive about the matter, and had felt that the faiths have all been meaning to protect them from the Others.

"I must say that I haven't given it much thought, but I do believe that if there was such a savior, I wouldn't leave my future to him alone. Why must one man carry such a burden?"

"How about seven men?"

"I still won't bet on it, even if all the kings of the seven kingdoms were to join in the fight. I'd be more settled if I would be in the battle my self. But then again, as hand I must stay here and keep the vultures from eating the kingdom while she's away."

Sansa smiled at him and returned to her meal.

That evening she heard a direwolf singing to the moon from the distance. _Nymeria_ she thought, _it could only be Nymeria_. Sansa then took Widow's Wail from her side and held it between her hands as if she were praying. _Oh Gods of the Seven, show onto me what I must do and where I must be._


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 17: The Smith and the Ghost of High Heart

The snows where falling again in the Riverlands, making it hard for Gendry to ride to High Heart on horse. He began walking half way through; the cold and the frost could not undermine his determination to get to the old Ghost. The fur on his cloak barely kept him warm as he was built for the summer heat, but the fire in him burned greater than any cold. He was a stubborn bull, and that was enough to get him through.

The Ghost of High Heart was expecting him. She sitting by a fire, warming herself and seemingly waiting for Gendry to arrive. She turned around to nod a greeting at the young man and then returned to her fire. Gendry was panting and exhausted when he got near enough the fire. He fell on the ground, seating himself snuggly on the snow. He had to catch his breath before he could ask about his problems.

"You doubt my prophecy, young man," the Ghost wasted no time in bringing up why Gendry had arrived.

"You said you dreamt her dead," he answered, rubbing his hands near the flame.

"I said she was walking with Death, I never said she was dead. You assumed that for yourself."

"You said I would never be King and that my Queen walks with death. How else should I interpret you words."

"I said you are a Smith and not a King whilst your Queen walks with death. Young Baratheon, your destiny does not lie with the Iron Throne, but with the forging of the Sword that defends it."

"No riddles this time old Ghost?"

"The cold makes my dreams simpler. The night is much too harsh for me young man."

"My Queen walks with Death. She has changed so much since I saw her last. You were right in what you said about the pain and misery she had in her life."

"I am always right dear boy. And this is probably the last dream I'll share. It is a dream that came to me when first snow fell in the Riverlands.

_The blood of seven kingdoms shall be forged onto steel, blessed with a maiden's wish and with the stranger's vengeance. Those who defy the Light shall fall when the Warrior of Light pierces death's sword onto the mother's breasts and covers it with the blood of fire. Then the Crone shall proclaim the Father King of the Lands of Light._

"You are telling me that I shall forge Lightbringer?" Gendry asked with a tone of sarcasm and disbelief, "Shouldn't the Prince that was Promised be the one doing that?"

"Oh Tales are Tales, and people will be surprised with their worth. Go now and sleep Great Bastard, a great and powerful greenseer has a message for you."

That night, Gendry dreamt of a voice he was unfamiliar with. The next morning he woke up knowing exactly what he needed to do. He was about to say good-bye to the old ghost, but instead of a cranky old hag, all he saw was a dead old woman lying beside the embers. He buried the old woman and said his prayers, then went on his way.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 18: The Dragons come North

Danaerys and her army have been travelling for a month. They've kept loses to a minimal with the adequate amount of fire they had and the generosity of the wives of the Lords along the King's Road. Most of their husbands have already left to retake the North. They were more than glad to see the army coming to join them. The sight of the Dragons gave them hope that their Queen will bring back those they loved and end the Long Night.

They would stop and rest every few days. The cold was not for the Southron forces, no matter how well clothed they were. During one of these nights, Aegon came to Dany's tent to share a meal with his aunt.

"I dream of a once sleeping dragon awoken," she said staring at the flame from her wine glass.

"You think there's another dragon in the North?"

"I don't think, I can feel it. For some reason the heat in my veins have been getting hotter as we go further north. It was just as when I first saw you my nephew," Dany smiled at Aegon. He was looking very unsettled and she knew why.

"How can there be another Dragon in the North? Your brother Viserys is dead, Maester Aemon is dead, and my sister Rhaenys did not survive," he argued.

"You forget Aegon that your father had another woman before he died."

"But there were no accounts that he had a child with her," Aegon's voice was showing the stress he was feeling from the thought. It was one thing to know that his father truly loved another, but the thought of having a bastard brother did not place with him well. A bastard Stark and he a trueborn Martel, his father bedded a woman from the south and from the north. Aegon did not understand it, but there was a feeling of betrayal and insecurity in his bones.

"During our travels, Arya Stark mentioned to me of her favorite brother- a bastard I gather, since his name is Snow and not Stark. He is about a year younger than you." Dany paused to see Aegon's reaction.

"Does he look Targaryen as we do?"

"No, actually he looks completely Stark. But that doesn't really say anything does it? He might be a dragon in wolf's clothing, much as your sister was said to be Martel in all features."

"Why are you so curious about this Snow, your Highness?" Aegon needed to hear it from her.

"My heart flutters with the thought of him," Dany smiled at Aegon, "I dreamt of the white Viserion sleeping in the snow, then waking with direwolf eyes."

"You are convinced that this bastard is my brother? And you're even considering him to be your consort?" Aegon had to hear how this bastard could be a threat to his own future.

"Don't be angry Aegon, even if I do fall in love with him, I cannot bear any children and you will be my heir no matter what happens." Dany stood and gave her nephew a kiss on the forehead. "When I look at your silver hair and sun-kissed skin, I imagine what my son would have looked like had he lived. He was the stallion who would mount the world." Dany gave him a sad reassuring look and gave him leave.

Aegon went straight to his own tent and laid on his bed contemplating on the possibility that he might have a brother. Then the problems of his heart came knocking once more. The man who was the biggest threat to his Throne was the brother of both women he was in love with. The faces of both Sansa and Arya came to his mind and drove him mad. How can two women of such quality be from one family?

Soon he would be seeing Arya again, and he knew not how to act with her. Both of them were aware of his conflicted emotions, and neither would completely return them.

When the royal army arrived in Winterfel, Rickon Stark met them on the King's road with his great black direwolf. It was their first time seeing a direwolf and Danearys immediately grew fond of the creature. They were to feast at Winterfel that night before the army was to be divided into the keeps of the Northron Lords before they head up to the Wall. Jon Snow, the King in the North, welcomed Danaerys and the other Southron Lords. He was sitting on the Winter throne while his sister Arya Stark sat beside him. The Northron Lords rised when the doors of the Great Hall parted and Arya Stark approached Dany and Aegon and knelt before them.

"My Queen," Arya addressed Dany, "I would like to introduce you to my brother, Jon of House Stark, first of his name, King of the North, the Riverlands and the Wildlings."

Jon stood up and approached her. She was surprised with how handsome he was. She expected him to be battle worn and scarred, but the few scars visible on his face made him even more beautiful to her. She knew it would be an awkward meeting as the autonomy of the North was yet to be settled, but that was a problem easily settled at a later time. Dany held her hand up for Jon to kiss it and smiled at him, "I am honored to meet you your highness," she greeted him without curtsy. "I am Danaerys Stormborn, of house Targaryen, Queen of Essos and Westeros."

"As am I your highness, my sister has spoken highly of you and I trust her most of all the people in my court. I hope that you will find Winterfel to your liking and we shall work together in peace in defending the realm."

"I wish for the same King Jon." Dany could not help but blush when the young king's eyes looked straight into hers. They were cold and yet electrifying.

"Oh, and may I introduce to you my heir and nephew, Prince Aegon Targaryen, son of my brother the late Prince Rhaegar." Dany motioned for Aegon to come forward and he knelt before Jon, although begrudgingly. His eyes were fixed on the Northern King from the moment he'd entered the room. No trace of Targaryen blood can be seen in him. He most certainly looked more like Arya full brother than the one who greeted them.

"Pleased to meet you your highness," Aegon said with an air of formality.

Jon asked for him to stand up and looked him in the eye as well. His expression was different from that he gave Danaerys. It was a sad look disguised in his coldness. "As am I Prince Aegon."

Once everyone was settled in, Jon went to the godswood and was not seen again until dinner for the feast. Dany also remained in her quarters, resting, while Aegon searched for Arya.

"May I come in?" Aegon knocked on her door once he found it.

"And what do you need from me?" Arya opened the door but did not welcome him inside. She remained at the door and stared at him coldly.

"I am not here to court you my Lady, but to ask a favor."

"And the favor is?"

"Can you please accompany me down to the crypts of Winterfel?"

"What for?" Arya closed the door behind her and leaned against it. She was willing to do Aegon's request but was unsure if she should.

"I need to see the face of the woman my father died for."

Arya fell silent and simply walked forward. Aegon followed her in silence as they both went down to the crypts with a torch on hand. Aegon stared at the statue for several minutes and then looked at Arya.

"What they say is indeed true, you do look like her." Aegon commented.

"And what of it?"

Aegon turned around completely and moved closer to her. He grabbed her arm and let the torch fall onto the damp floor, extinguishing the flame. He kissed her on the lips and then released her before she could slit his throat. Aegon then left her with a pensive look and went to the godswood.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 19: Blood of my Blood

In the godswood beneath the Great Weirwood was Bran Stark sitting by the pond and Summer at his side. His eyes were closed and his mind was elsewhere when Jon came with Ghost and sat beside him. Bran's eyes fluttered open when he felt Jon's presence and turned to smile at his brother.

"The sudden rush of blood bothered you?" Bran asked the elder Stark.

"I did not expect that much friction when I finally saw him."

"Unlike you, he's still not settled with the idea of having a brother."

"I haven't really settled to that idea myself. I was in a deep slumber and then I awake a dragon. I really don't know if I should speak to them about it, Bran." Jon then took out Long Claw and began sharpening it.

"You look more like father as you do that," Bran remarked.

"I've been trying to get the that traitor's blood out but I simply could not be satisfied."

"Ironic, isn't it. We were torn apart and now we are together again, protecting the realm from creatures unknown."

"The Starks of Winterfell… We are of the blood of the First Men. There is magic in our veins."

"Indeed, Magic."

Aegon felt a deep burning in his veins whenever he thought of Jon Snow. It took a lot from him to accept that he truly is his Father's son. Aegon may not have known Rhaegar, but a sense of betrayal began to wash on him. It was the bitterness from his father's gesture of love that made him disdain Jon Snow. Yet, he only had to see Lyanna Stark for him to understand his father. Arya, was the ghost of her Aunt and as Rhaegar felt fire for the wolf's daughter, so did he. Jon was his brother; Jon is a Targaryen.

Aegon stomped onto the Godswood, not truly knowing what he was going to say to Jon. But he they needed to talk. This was not a matter that could wait. Dany was right, Jon was the third head and he had to secure him.

Aegon heard the last portions of their conversation. "Magic," he said, to make his presence known, "is strong here in the North."

Jon rose from his seat and merely stared with surprise of Aegon's sudden arrival.

"It is, only because those down south have forgotten to listen to the Earth," Bran replied on Jon's behalf.

Aegon accepted the answer and courteously humored the conversation. "You're a Greenseer, am I correct Lord Bran?"

"Yes, indeed I am. Probably the last living."

"Then surely you see and know things that are unspoken."

"The weirwoods let me see the things they remember, and they have a seen a lot."

Aegon nodded and sat one of the weirwood's roots. He let out a deep sigh and allowed kinder features to surface on his face. Jon retook his seat and returned to polishing Longclaw, glancing every now and then at Aegon.

"Then can you tell me the story of our father," Aegon asked sadly, glancing at Jon with an awkward smile. Jon was caught off guard and stopped polishing, merely staring at his older brother. "I would very much like to know the story of his life," Aegon explained, "very few people can tell me the truth…"

Jon gave him a shy smile and looked to Bran with an anticipating look. The greenseer obliged them and began to recount what he knew.

"Aunt Lyanna was a wild one. Her spirit was so strong that no skirt or title could keep her," Bran began and the two brothers listened solemnly to the story. At the part when Rheagar died at the trident, whispering the name of dear, sweet Lyanna, Bran noticed tear escape the brothers' eyes. Their father died for love, and they wondered if they, too, could have a death so honorable. They remained silent for few more minutes to take in the tragedy of their father's life. But the moment was broken when Aegon rose and approached Jon. He placed a hand on his younger brother's shoulder and said, "Brother, at last we are together." Jon embraced him and the two of them felt the fire burn in their veins. Bran looked at them with a triumphant smile. Hope burned into him as he saw the three dragons come together. Destiny was working to their favor, and he hoped in his heart that destiny will be kind to all of them.

After the sentimental show, the two brothers then took to catching up with each other's lives. Jon told Aegon about his adventures up North while Aegon told him of his life across the Narrow Sea. At some point, Bran had excused himself and returned to the castle. The sun was setting on them and they knew they had to return to the castle soon as well, but neither dared to ruin their reunion.

Then suddenly, the air became warmer around them. They looked up and saw their Aunt Danearys Stormborn looking at them intrigued. "I've been wondering where you were all afternoon, nephew," she said when Aegon rose and bowed to her. "I should've known you'd be here with the King." Dany had a knowing smile on her lips as she turned her gaze to Jon. She extended her hand to him and Jon politely kissed it. Dany then moved her hand to cup his face and gently stroked his long raven hair. "Blood of my blood, I am happy we have found you."


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 20: The Feast before the Long Night

King Jon entered the Great Hall escorting Queen Danaerys and all the lords of Westeros cheered for their monarchs. They took their seats at the grand table, flanked by Aegon to the left and Arya to the right. Tonight they were celebrating; tonight nothing mattered but joy. Jon rose from his seat and interrupted the merriment to address his guests. "My Brothers, and Sisters. Tonight we come together and drink wine for tomorrow we shall meet with destiny. Tomorrow we shall cut through Winter's bone and end the coming Long Night! Together we shall welcome the dawn!" The lords shouted in unison, filled with optimism and hope from their leaders. Arya could not help but swell with pride as she looked at her brother's kingly air. 'Jon was meant for this,' she thought and glanced at Dany whom she noticed was flushed and affixed at Jon as well.

The merriment ensued and everyone drank to their hearts content. Arya kept busy with her brothers, teasing Bran and Rickon like they were children. Jojen and Meera Reed were also seated close to them and the sibling obliged to Arya's fun at Bran's expense. It had been so long since they could easily laugh like this, and they knew it wouldn't last so they made their best effort to enjoy.

Every now and then Arya would glance at Jon and giggle. Her brother was obviously preoccupied with the silver haired beauty beside him. It was obvious that Jon was besotted yet there was an air of restraint in his manner. Danaerys, on the other hand, was not shy at all with her attraction; yet he resisted her advances. Aegon, on the other hand, had long departed the grand table for the comfort of his other companions. He sat with the Queen's guard and drank heavily with all of them. Arya also noticed Ser Baristan and Lord Connington keeping an eye at their charges, both old men were drinking with caution.

Then, the memory of the kiss came to Arya. She did not know how to feel about it. She could not understand what Aegon wanted from her, nor did she understand what she wanted from him. Her heart belonged to another, and she gave it away willingly. And then the pain struck her again. Gendry had rejected her. Confessed his love and then rejected her. She would have chosen him over Aegon if he asked her to, or over anyone else for that matter. Then her mind drifted to the kiss Aegon gave her in the crypts before he ran off to god knows where. Arya looked at the prince from afar and felt annoyed. He left her in the darkness and was now ignoring to his hearts content. 'Why are these men so stupid' she wondered. She continued to stare at Aegon as she drank her 8th cup of wine. She knew he could feel her gaze and her enmity, yet he's choosing to ignore her. It annoyed her even more.

By the time the moon was above the great tower, half them men were passed out and the room was filled no longer with music but with insensible groans of drunk men mixed in with the shrill laughter of the few women present in the room. Most of the high lords no longer seemed too dignified and most of the soldiers lost it all together.

Among those who kept it together was Jon. He didn't let himself drink to a stupor, trying to keep self-control, especially with the beautiful dragon Queen charming her way into his desires. Jon looked at the barely conscious woman by his side and remembered his late love. 'Ygritte was kissed by fire, but Dany is fire herself,' for the first time Jon did not feel sad with the memory of Ygritte and felt a sense of contentment as he looked at the Queen. Dany was strong and beautiful, but those things can wait, he told himself. Thus, he stood from his seat before he could do something he might regret. Jon sneaked past the drunken soldiers and disappeared towards his quarters. Arya noticed her brother leaving, and followed him.

"What's the rush? Are you taking your vows much to heart?" she asked, surprising him with her sudden intrusion.

"As matter of fact, yes. I do not plan on breaking my vows any time soon little sister."

"I do not understand men at all," Arya commented in a drunken tone, "at first you look like creatures strung with desire, and yet you deny yourselves of true love."

Jon raised a brow at her monologue and laughed a bit at his sister. "Obviously, this is not about me."

Arya glared at him and pointed needle at his heart, "I really don't understand…" Arya was about to say something but a sudden drop in temperature distracted them. Frost rapidly set in the walls and freezing gusts of wind entered the halls. The two of them rushed to look out the window and saw nothing but a blizzard. A rush of urgency came down on them, worried about the men feasting outside the castle. They both rushed back in the great hall and collected those who were still conscious. They needed to get everyone inside the castle, lest they abandon them for dead.

The royal host was much too large to fit in the castle and most of the soldiers could not longer bear the cold. Snow was falling fast and the winds were making it hard for them to breath. Jon moved as fast as he could. The most he could do was at least shelter them within the walls. Aegon came to and rushed to ride Rhaegal and helped guide the men outside into the gates. But there were just too many.

"A few of our keeps are only a few hours away, we can try to brave this blizzard to get some of the men into them," suggest some of the Northron Lords. It was an impractical suggestion, but it made the most sense.

"I'll ride Rhaegal and escort you. At least the dragons can provide a bit of warmth in the travel," Aegon declared. "We need to do everything to keep our men alive."

Dany nodded and allowed him to take his leave. But even if Aegon were to succeed, the men he could take with him were still not enough to allow winterfel to accommodate the rest. They had no choice but to weather the night. She then rode drogon and made giant fires in the wolf's wood to warm the remaining men. None of them slept that night, they all tried to keep everyone alive.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 21: The Dragon of the North

The blizzard made a turn for the worse over the night and continued on for a few more days. They did not know how many men survived the walk to the other keeps, but most certainly many died. Danaerys was getting weary from worrying for Aegon's well-being. The prince had not returned and the thick wall of frosted wind showed no signs of abating. Everyone was busy trying to keep the men alive but hope was dwindling faster than their numbers. Jon, most of all, seemed to be the most disheartened. He kept to his quarters, alone. Not even leaving for meals. He only allowed his brothers and sister in his rooms, but even they stayed only for moments.

Jon could no longer count how many days it has been since the royal host alive. All he could focus on was how unsettled he was about this whole predicament. He knew for certain that a sudden frosts like that could only mean one thing- White Walkers; and they were close. He hasn't heard any news from the wall in over a week. There was no way for raven to get through, if there were still people capable of sending him a raven. He felt incompetent, desperate, and guilty. It was as if he had abandoned his people for dead. Despair grew more and more in his heart as he questioned why he went home in the first place. His place was in the Wall, not behind it.

He remained in his old room with Ghost sitting on his old spot in the corner by the fire. Jon sat there in a chair, fixated on the dancing flames as if trying to discern something. 'Melissandre always saw things through the flames,' he thought and stared deeper into a trance; but he saw nothing but shades of flame. Then, just when he was about to look away a dragon breathed fire and the flame went out. Jon remained there frozen in shock of what he saw. It was only Ghost liking his face that brought him back to consciousness. He embraced his wolf and ruffled his fur to placate the animal. Assured that his master was fine, Ghost walked over to the door where someone had been knocking for a time.

"Jon?" a voice inquired kindly. It was a soft, sweet voice very different from his sister's. Jon knew who it was and was in no mood to entertain. He remained quiet, hoping to pretend to be asleep but Ghost did no cooperate. His direwolf jumped and opened the door, letting Danaerys inside.

"Your Grace," Jon greeted with a slight dip of his head.

"Your Grace," Dany replied with the same simple curtsey.

Jon remained silently, awkwardly waiting for to say her piece. Dany knew he didn't want anyone's company but she had to come and speak to him.

"The blizzard," Dany began softly, inquiring. She began to move sultrily towards Jon and stopped when was a foot away. Her silver blonde hair seemed to have an eerie dull glow in the pale darkness of a winter morning. Her violet eyes were soft and sad and tired. Jon noticed everything as she walked towards him. He knew what she was asking but kept silent anyway, letting her continue. "Is because of our enemies, is it not?" she continued, with an edge of hope that her assumption would be negated. Jon simply let face fall and let out a heavy sigh; he could not tell her an out right 'yes' but what she said was true. Fear began to well up in her innocent eyes as she turned Jon's head to face her. "And you are afraid for your people?" Jon merely returned her gaze, trying not to fall into her arms in a moment of weakness. "I understand how you feel Jon Snow. I led my men into this unforgiving cold with a promise that I don't think I can fulfill," A few tears escaped her eyes and her lips began to quiver with fear. Jon could not help but be amazed with the site of the strong Dragon Queen in her most vulnerable. "Let me help you," she said stroking his hair.

"How?" he asked with the same amount of desperation.

"Take Viserion and go to your wall and I will follow with the rest of the troops," she replied with a weak smile.

Jon stared at her as a small smile began to form on his lips. His heart began to pound with excitement. He embraced his aunt tightly and whispered thanks before releasing her.

"Are you certain, Your Grace? I know how much those dragons mean to you."

"Jon Snow, you are a dragon and Viserion is yours. You are my brother's son of the North. I trust you. Don't worry, Aegon and I will soon follow."

Jon finally smiled at her warmly. He waved at the Ghost and commanded him to approach. "I'll leave Ghost with you, he shall protect you while I'm gone and will guide you to the wall. We don't know how many of our troops have become Whites, so please be careful when you follow." Jon talked so hurriedly as he got his furred cloak and gloves. He placed Longclaw on his waist and got a small bag where he placed some food and drink. "I'll see you again, Danearys Stormborn," he whispered in her ear after kissing her cheek good bye. "I promise you will," Dany replied as walked out the door and Ghost rubbed his face onto her side.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 22: The Direwolf in King's Landing

Court has never been crueler than it was now. The Queen's absence, along with most of men in court, left the Red Keep in shambles. All over the walls were whispers and intrigues. Left and right, ladies of houses Great and Small were preying over influence and affluence. They were rallying behind their own bets; hoping to be in the winning side by the time their husbands and sons returned home. Much of it was bull. Sansa could care less of their games; she had bigger problems to deal with.

Outside the walls of the Red Keep, peasants lay dying of the cold and famine. They were unprepared with the sudden frost. The harvest was cut short and much of the grain went bad from the weather. Disease was spreading and there was so little she could do.

"The air grows fouler by the day," she commented one evening as she and Tyrion ate supper.

"It's the amount of dead people going unburied. They're rotting in the streets while the living await to join them," Tyrion replied, exhausted from the day's work.

"But the smell cannot beat the ladies," Sansa remarked as she took a bite of her chicken.

Tyrion chuckled and shook his head, "thank you my dear, your humor has been irreplaceable these days. I just hope all this doom and gloom hasn't gotten to you entirely."

"Bit by bit it has been, Lord Tyrion. But I am built more for this weather than most people. This is summer in Winterfel," She smiled, trying to hide the sadness in her heart that came with the mention of home.

"I remember the cold North quite well. True though, what you say," Tyrion remarked in between chewing, "that this is fine weather compared to the North, especially the wall. I dare say cannot imagine how your brother is right now."

Sansa smiled at the thought of Jon. He was her brother. She hasn't thought of him in years. "Jon is strong, like father, I am sure he's being stubborn and steadfast against this blizzard." Sansa almost cried but she refused weakness.

Tyrion noticed her pain and dropped his cutlery for a moment and walked towards her. He held her hand and in a soothing voice spoke, "If the North calls to you, there is no reason for you not to go. I can take care of things here, Sansa. You've been trapped in the South for far too long."

Sansa allowed her tears to fall, and she began to cry on Tyrion's shoulder. The dwarf had always been kind to her, and tonight his friendship was very comforting to her. But she shook her head when she found her composure.

"No, I must stay here. I have a duty to the people," she declared trying to fit a smile on her lips.

Tyrion merely nodded and squeezed her hand once more before returning to his seat.

That night, Sansa went to bed with thoughts of home. The faces of all those she loved rushed in one by one. First were her brothers. Robb was dead and pained her soon he was taken from the world. Then Jon, Bran, and Rickon; she wondered how they all looked- if they were all okay. She had not heard of any news from the North since the host left. Arya said she would send her a raven once she arrives in Winterfel, but no ravens have been flying these past months. Then images of her mother and father came to her. She had not thought of them for so long, it was much too painful. The anger, the guilt, and the regret all came back to her. Everything she felt that day on the steps of the great sept came rushing it. Sansa thought her emotions were going to break her heart; if not, at least drive her insane. If her brothers knew, if Arya knew, that if it had not been for her plea their father might still be alive. Had she been more loyal to her family and had she been less stupid, as Arya phrased it, they might have been back home long ago. But no, things turned out for the worst and she could face how much credit for that went to her.

She could not go home; she did not deserve to go home. She cannot face her brothers, nor can she face the people of the North. "I don't deserve the name Stark," she whispered as she drifted into sleep.

The moon was high in the sky when Sansa suddenly woken up by a howling in the distance. It was a familiar howl- a direwolf's howl. 'A direwolf, this far south?' she thought as she got out of bed and into her robes. The howling continued. It was a mourning howl, filled with sorrow. Sansa could not help but go to it. She took her cloak and put on some shoes and went on her way, following the sound.

It was not long before Sansa found herself deep in the King's Wood. The snow had stopped and it was not very difficult to tread. She came to a small clearing bathed in moonlight where a Weirdwood tree stood alone in the center, surrounded by a pond and flowers. It looked very much like the Godswood in Winterfel. The howling continued from afar but Sansa swore she saw a wolf by the weirwood. She hastened towards is and saw a dainty grey wolf sitting by the roots waiting for her. Sansa dropped to her knees and could not believe her eyes, "Lady!" she exclaimed. The wolf ran to her and licked her face as Sansa embraced her back. But as Sansa's hold on tightened she disappeared into thin air. Sansa stood up frantically shouting for her. She was about to return to the woods to look for Lady when another wolf walking towards her blocked her path. "Greywind," she recognized her brother's wolf, "where's Robb?'

Greywind continued his approach and stopped when he was but a few feet away from her. The direwolf kneeled and beckoned her to follow him to the Weirwood. Greywind stopped right before the face carved into the trunk and motioned for Sansa to do the same. It was probably the first time Sansa had ever been that close to a weirwood face. She touched the trunk and traced the face, covering her fingers in the bloody red sap. "Winter is coming," she spoke their words and began to pray. However, she was lifted from her trance by another wail from the mourning direwolf. In the distant sky she saw flames extinguish into smoke as the dragon cried in pain. "Greywind," she said turning to her side, but he was gone. Instead, Sansa found a stag walking weakly towards her. It collapsed just before her feet, dying from exhaustion. Sansa stroked the stag's fur and calmed it to sleep. It was then that she felt a hilt buried in the stag's belly. She moved through it's fur and pulled out a sword.

It was a burning sword that lit fire on her whole being, but she did not care. She allowed the flames to engulf and she listened to the wolf howling in the distance as she turned into ash, clutching the sword onto her breast. But before she disintegrated completely, she saw Ghost behind the weirwood, watching her burn.

Sansa awoke in the middle of the night, breathless from her dream. "I must go," she thought. The same howling from her dream could be heard in the distance, and she knew she had to go and brave the snow. There was something greater than all of them driving her leave King's Landing. "I need to rejoin my pack."


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 23: The Noble Stag

It was freezing with the snow set in deep around the hill, yet in the midst of the blistering cold was a glowing flame that could be seen from a far. A strong pounding sound of metal against metal can be heard from a distance as Gendry reshaped a great sword in his makeshift forge. It had to be done there, it had to be him, it had to be done- for all of Westeros. Gendry knew not why he was tasked to reforge Dark Sister, only that he had to do it. He thought himself too simple to think of things that are beyond his craft, but something compelled him to pound and pound in spite of the deathly cold. He was a bull, a stubborn bull.

In between rounds of shaping and cooling and heating, he would sometimes look to his patient companions. One was a peculiar child-like creature from beyond the wall, and the other a traveling crow sent to accompany the little one. They had found him just after he left High Heart and had given him the shards of Dark Sister. The Targeryan ancestral sword was amazing to behold even when it was in pieces. 'Such fine Valyrian Steel,' he thought as he examined each piece.

"He said you'd know what to do," the little one spoke as she gave him the box.

Gendry nodded, indeed he knew what was to be done. It was explained to him in a dream from the night before by a mysterious figure with Wolf eyes, which glowed eerily like that of Arya's. He felt certain sadness from the memory of his lost love. 'She walked with death, and a king I'll never be,' he thought trying to convince himself of his choice to refuse her that night.

Gendry shook the memory and began focusing all his strength and energy into the sword. He knew he was growing weak but he carried on. He had not slept nor ate in days, stopping only for a drink of water every now and then. He was willing to give his life for this sword, yet he did not know why.

"A few more," he whispered as he pounded. The moon was right behind him. He smiled at the sight of it. "At least a clear sky appears before I go."

He cooled it again and pounded once more. Then a growl came from his left and he saw a direwolf snarling angrily at him.

"Hello," he greeted her without stopping, "come watch me. You always loved watching me in the forge."

He did not know if he was hallucinating from exhaustion or hunger, but to him that wolf was as real as it could be. She sat down and quietly watched him and he saw Leaf, the little one, sit by her whispering to the direwolf.

Gendry's strength was failing as the sword grew sharp and strong. He smiled with pleasure, admiring his work. "One last," he said as he lifted his hammer high into the sky, but his arm could not take it. He lost his strength, dropped the armor onto the side and collapsed onto the snow. The direwolf ran to him and licked his face, worried and frantic.

"He'll be fine," he heard leaf reassure her.

Gendry opened his eyes and saw the direwolf looking straight into his with an angry expression. He touched her head and stroked her fur. "Forgive me, please," he said and mustered what strength he had left to stand up and place the final strike onto the sword. He was heaving and panting, as he cooled it. He could barely stand, let alone raise it against the moonlight to examine his work. But he had done it, at the expense of himself, but he had done it.

Gendry stuck the sword onto the ground and collapsed to his knees hanging on to the sword for support. It glowed like ember, hot red against the black steel- melting the snow around it. He looked to the direwolf with sad eyes as he smiled at her. "I loved you, my Arya," and he was gone.

The direwolf howled to the moon all night long, mourning for him. She would not stop; nothing could placate her. He was gone.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 24: The Dragons of Sand and Snow

Aegon was on his way back to Winterfell after guiding the troops to the nearby keeps. He and Rhaegal had been fighting the strong winds and the cold, when he noticed bursts of flame going North of where he stood. 'A dragon,' he thought and pulled Rheagal to catch up to his brother.

It was Viserion, white and silver. Had it not been for the flames, Aegon would not have seen the other dragon. Riding him was a man clad in black- 'Jon', Aegon thought. Aegon looked around as they approached and saw Drogon was nowhere near, nor was there an army below him. Jon was alone, and was heading for the Wall.

Rhaegal shot a strong burst to get the other dragon's attention, stopping Viserion in mid air. "Jon!" Aegon shouted as he sped angrily towards his younger brother, "What are you doing?!"

"I'm on my way to the wall," Jon shouted back. It was hard to converse in the blizzard.

"I could see that! But why are you doing this?"

"I need to rescue my people."

"Are you out of you damn mind?" Aegon replied, furious at his brother's recklessness.

"No I am not! I am their King, I cannot leave them for dead!"

"You'll do more good by coming back to Winterfel with me! Jon, listen to me now! If you die with Viserion, that's already one dragon less to our advantage."

"It is better that I die trying, than I wait around in Winterfel for this blizzard to subside!"

"You're no good dead!"

"Winter cannot kill me Aegon!"

"But stupidity will, Jon! Don't be reckless, come back with me!"

"No Aegon, I belong in the wall, not behind it. I'd rather risk this than arrive only to see a wall filled with Whites! This blizzard will only keep on getting worse. It means only one thing Aegon! The White Walkers are on the move. The Wall is in danger. I must go!" Jon was adamant and held his ground, in spite of his brother protestations. He was about to command Viserion to fly on when Aegon's face changed from cross to pleading.

"Stay alive until we get there, brother," Aegon said, reaching out his hand.

Jon remembered the bond he had with Robb, then with his brothers of the Night's Watch, and now with Aegon. He nodded at his true blooded brother grabbed his arm. "I'll wait for all of you, brother." Aegon then released him and watched him fly away.

"You are a true King, little brother," Aegon said to Jon's fleeting image before he turned Rhaegal back towards Winterfel. Much was needed to be prepared there, and he had to reach the castle by nightfall. Aegon was not built for Winter, that much he knew. He was a child of summer and the Sun was in his blood as Ice ran through his brother's.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 25: Death and the Faceless One

The halls of Winterfell was awakened that night with screams and wails from Arya Stark's room. It was a shrill and angry howl that rang through the whole castle, making Rickon rush to his sister's side. He found her sitting her bed, clutching the furs, in tears and wailing. He sat beside her an embrace Arya, whispering words of comfort on to her ear. "Hush sister, I am here," he repeated over and over until she calmed a little. It was rare for Arya to cry, that much he remembered of her- let alone cry like this. She began pounding onto his chest, as she spoke inaudible curses at something he could not make out what. Rickon tightened his hold on her and began stroking her long brown hair. She calmed for a moment, enough to push him a bit to look into his face. She had a dazed look with her eyes filled with tears as she continued to sob. "Robb," she said, "how does it feel to die?"

Rickon could not answer. Arya was delirious and he did not know what to do.

"Does it hurt? Or does it feel good to die?" she kept on asking in between wails and bursts of tears.

"Are mother and father with you?" Arya was getting more inconsolable as Rickon refused to answer any of her questions. "Father! Mother! Robb! Syrio! Jory! Micah!," she shouted as she pounded strongly into his chest. She was strong and Rickon felt it with each blow. She continued to murmur names, most of whose he did not know and then she stopped and whimpered. "Gendry… Gendry…" she said softly before wailing once more.

"Hush sister, we're still here with you. It's me Rickon," he begged her as he held onto her tightly. "Bran, Sansa, Jon and I are still alive. Please stay with us Arya! Don't give up on us," he begged with all his heart. Rickon felt like a 6 year old boy again, desperately praying for his loved ones to return home even though he knew though would not.

Then suddenly, Arya stopped sobbing and mindlessly began repeating names. "Sansa, Bran, Rickon, Jon, Dany, Aegon, Blackfish…" and she went on ending it with "Valar…" and screaming instead of proceeding. "I refuse! I refuse to be no one!" she whispered to an unknown being.

"You are Arya Stark sister, you will never be no one," Rickon replied rocking his sister back and forth, trying to lull her back to sleep. She went on with the names for another good deal of time before she fell into exhaustion. Rickon tucked her back in bed and held her hand.

"Don't worry sister, we'll make it through this," he promised her.

As Rickon stood and made his way to the door, he found Summer waiting for him at the door. He knew Bran was calling for him. Rickon nodded and then commanded Shaggydog to stay with Arya as he went with Summer.

Arya had calmed down when Rickon left. Her consciousness had drifted into a place in between her body and Nymeria's- a limbo where wargs get lost. She felt cold and filled with anguish. It was no longer emptiness or numbness that predominated in her heart but a deep, searing pain.

"Robb's gone," she said as she continued to whimper. "Everyone leaves."

"Valar Morghulis… Valar Morghulis…" she kept on repeating, not expecting anyone to respond. Then she heard a coin flipping in the distance but coming towards her.

"Valar Dohaeris, Arya Stark," replied a deep familiar voice.

"Jaqen H'aghar," she said, raising her head to see her visitor. But instead of the man she knew, a figure dressed in the kindly man's clothes came before her holding the golden coin.

"No, I am no one, but at some point in time I was known to you as Jaqen H'aghar."

"What do you want? Have you come to take me?" Arya dared her old friend. She did want anything more but to die or at least to be lost in nothingness.

"I can do that, but I shant. If you wish to receive the gift, you must do it yourself. I am merely here to give you an option."

"An option?" Arya stood up, intrigued by the proposition.

"Yes, Arya Stark. You were, up to the time you left the order, a good servant of death. But you have used your skills for you own vengeance. As you have delivered all the names you wished to offer to the Stranger, it is time that we collect payment."

"So Gendry's life was payment for all the lives I took?"

"The life of your friend is of no concern to us, what we wish is your life, Arya Stark."

"But I thought you weren't here to kill me."

"No I am not, I am here to ask you a question to which you know the answer to," Jaqen paused and lifted his arm, and took a cup from its sleeve. "Who are you?" he said as he handed her the cup.

"I am…" Arya was about to answer, but she could not. She felt a snout nudging on her face- a direwolf, one of her brother's.

"I'll leave you know with this cup, Arya Stark. Valar Morghulis…" and he disappeared, leaving only the cup in her hands, and a coin in his place.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 26: Sansa's Journey

The snow was getting deeper and deeper as Sansa went farther away from King's Landing. She saw the blue sky behind her and turn dull grey with the sun hiding behind the clouds. Her steed was expiring soon, but she knew she had to keep on going. 'Just a little more' she thought as she saw the stream of smoke on the horizon. There, she knew, was what she was looking for. Sansa braved the cold winds and hung on to the furs of her coat as she treads the snow. It had been a long time since she walked on snow like this. It had been a long time since she felt the Winter. 'I am a Stark; Winter cannot kill me," she thought, repeated to herself as the air grew thin. Her horsed was dead and buried deep in the snow, but she must move on. Something greater, she felt, was at stake. She cannot fail.

When she reached the small hill where the fire came from, she saw the wolves that encircled the clearing. All of them sitting in reverence and howling along the song of their leader. It was the direwolf from her dreams, singing to the moon a song of morning. She felt no danger from the wolves and proceeded up the hill; fighting away the tears and the sadness she felt from the song. Upon reaching the top, she found a small funeral pyre about to be lit. Holding the torch was a Crow and beside him a small human creature stroking the direwolf.

"Wait!" she said, rushing to them. "Is that Ser Gendry?!" she asked in alarm. She was too late. Gendry was indeed dead.

"Aye, m'lady. Indeed this is Ser Gendry's pyre," answered the crow.

Sansa stopped a foot from where they were and closed her eyes to say a prayer. She walked to the direwolf, after and stroked her fur- giving her a warm embrace. "I am very sorry, Nymeria. I am very sorry," she whispered to the wolf as they watched the Crow throw the torch into the pyre. The fire grew in seconds and the cloud of smoke turned into a thick tower rising up to the sky.

Nymeria stroked her face against Sansa shoulder and continued to sob but they were disturbed when the little one nudged on Sansa's sleeve.

"I believe I'm supposed to give you this, Lady," she said holding up the heavy valyrian sword.

Sansa stood and wiped her tear stained face before taking it. It was quite heavy, but Sansa saw how beautifully crafter it was. "He gave his life for this?" she asked, and the two nodded. "Then I will give my life to deliver this to the Warrior." Sansa gave them a weak but hopeful smile and stroked Nymeria's fur. "I promise you, dear one, that his life will not go to waste."

She wrapped the sword in a black cloth the little one had given her. Leaf, as she introduced herself, told Sansa that it was the cloak of the last greenseer who protected the Valyrian sword. It had a tattered white dragon on its back- it was Bloodraven's indeed.

They stayed all night and watched the pyre burn out completely. Sansa gave Gendry all the traditional funeral prayers and kept vigil all night. Once the pyre had been reduced to ashes and the sun was partly shining, she and her new companions left hill and went on their way. It was a long way North, she thought.

They'd walked and walked for days without even seeing any signs of life. They had been lucky that Nymeria's pack hunted for them but their supply of water was running low. They needed to find a town or a nearby keep soon, lest they die of thirst. Sansa could no longer remember how long it had been since she left king's landing. It felt like weeks due to the lack of water and proper sleep.

Sansa was about to collapse when she saw a band of men on horses coming towards them.

"My Lady Stark!" one of the men called to her but she simply thought she'd been hallucinating until the knight caught her mid-fall.

"Lady Stark! Lady Stark!" the knight repeated shaking his lady to awareness.

"Who are thee I speak to?" Sansa asked in a daze.

"I am Ser Stafford my lady, Lord Tyrion sent us to search for you. Here, drink some water and you shall feel better Lady Stark," he replied and handed her skin of water. Sansa took and drank generously, only stopping when she remembered her companions.

"Water for them too, please." She commanded and the Crow and Leaf were given their share.

Once they were well, Ser Stafford helped Sansa up a horse and they all rode for King's Landing.

"To the North Ser, or at least to a harbor where I may take a ship up to the Bite."

"But my lady, my orders were to return you to the Red Keep."

"No, I need to go North. Tyrion will understand, I promise."

The knight and his men did as they were told and brought Sansa to Seagard. It was the port nearest to them and the women of house Mallister warmly welcomed them. For a night they slept warmly, but Sansa refused to stay long. She demanded a boat that would bring her to the North- anywhere to the North. From Seagard, Sansa knew they can reach the Stony Shore by ship in a few days, as the wind permits, or if she was lucky Shadow Tower itself. The faster she gets to the wall, the better, she thought.

It did not take long before they were given a ship and crew, but the men were afraid and superstitious. Most of the seasoned sailors had gone with their lords to the North and this group of boys was too young for courage. But Sansa would not relent, she would take all means to get to the Wall. They had been given their supplies and at daybreak they went off.

Ser Stafford chose to remain with them, but sent some of his men back to report to King's Landing. He had been given a mission, it was to return Sansa Stark to the Red Keep and he will not leave her side until his mission had been completed.

The waves were harsh, and the ship tossed and turned with the violent sea. Several times they were in danger crashing to rocks but no matter how hard the waters got, Sansa remained steadfast and prayed to the Old Gods and New. She remained on deck, refusing to go below and hide. The men were inspired by her presence, but they also worried for her safety.

Lightbringer was tied to her back, and Leaf was a fixture at her side. "We will make it," Sansa told the little one as the lightning flashed in a distance. The sky was growing darker and darker- a storm was brewing. The men were quite uncertain if they could make it past. They begged Sansa to hide in her room to keep safe but she refused to leave them. Instead, she sang a song of prayer and held on to the sword as the men went about maintaining the ship afloat. It was a long and frosty voyage. The waves kept on smashing onto them, but they remained together. After a few more days at sea, the shores of the North were in view.

Sansa looked around at the men, and knew she could only ask so much from them. She would have to disembark and go on foot from there on. They parted at the Stony Shore with the men's faces clouded with shame and fear. They felt embarrassed that they had to leave their lady, but could not go on. With the Crow, Leaf, Ser Stafford and Nymeria, Sansa mounted her horse and rode away towards the Wolfswood.

It had been far too long since she was in the North and the trees and the wind called to her. Winterfell was a few miles east from where she was and she felt so tempted to go home. But there was not time to waste, she was needed at the wall.

They remained vigilant at all times. The Wolfswood was even more dangerous now in Winter than it had ever been in the summer. Nymeria kept them safe from predatory animals, but the cold was nothing they could control. At night, they managed to build fires to keep them warm, but Ser Stafford was son of the south and was not used to such harsh weathers.

"Forgive me, my Lady. I promised to stay with you but I don't think I could," he said with his lips barely moving from the frost.

"Hush, Ser Stafford. Conserve your energy, you will need if for heat." Sansa replied trying to console the knight.

"No my lady, I don't think I will last the night…" he expired before he could finish his words. He was frozen in a stare and all Sansa could do was close his eyes and walk away.

"How much farther is it to the wall?" Sansa asked the Crow.

"I can't say m'lady. This blizzard is too thick for me to say." Indeed the blizzard was strong and it had been taking a toll on all of them. The Crow himself does not look like he'll last very long either, and Leaf was barely hanging on to life.

One night, when the blizzard was too heavy to move, they stopped beneath a hollowed tree and build themselves a fire. She let the Crow sleep and Leaf curled up with Nymeria. Sansa stayed up to stand watch since she could not sleep. It was then when she felt the weirwoods calling out to her. She went outside, in spite of the wind and snow, bringing the sword with her. She walked for miles and miles until she reached a giant weirwood tree. Sansa approached its trunk and placed her hands on its tear stained eyes.

"Help me get to the North, please," she whispered. But then, behind her was a great danger.

Nymeria, unbeknownst to Sansa had followed her in her departure, but she was not tamed. The great direwolf had her teeth bared and ready to attack. Sansa was confused by the wolf's aggression. She thought she was hallucinating yet again. She was weak and had not eaten in days; certainly her mind was playing tricks on her. But Nymeria pounced on her for an attack that Sansa barely dodged. She uncovered the sword and a stood her ground. She was untrained but would not go down without a fight.

"Nymeria stop it!" Sansa shouted pleading to the direworlf, but the latter would not relent. Once again, Nymeria ran towards her for an attack but Sansa flung her sword in time. Both of them were wounded from the encounter. Blood dripped from Sansa's shoulder and onto the sword, while Nymeria's blood covered its blade. They were breathing heavily but Sansa kept on begging her to stop. "Arya please!" she shouted in desperation as Nymeria came charging towards her. She was pinned down and lost consciousness. "Arya please, don't do this," Sansa whispered before blacking out completely.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 27: The Sons of the First Men

"Where were you?" Rickon asked his older brother, but Bran remained silent with his back turned and facing the great Weirwood of Winterfel. Rickon was so angry at him, but he suppressed all urges to throttle his brother onto the ground. "Answer me Bran, where were you when our sister was screaming, and crying, and… suffering"

Bran finally faced him, with tear stained cheeks and puffy red eyes. Rickon had never seen his brother cry, even back then when they faced with death. Part of him began to mellow upon seeing his brother's remorse.

"I could not face her, Rickon. I knew…" Bran began to cry again, he cradles his head on his hands and wept like a child. "I knew he was going to die when I sent him the sword… I just didn't know who he was… I knew…"

"What do you mean you knew?" Rickon knelt before his brother and took Bran's shoulders to steady him and have him look Rickon in the face.

"I knew that forging Lightbringer would take his life…" Bran replied trying to turn away.

"Gendry? Who is this man?"

"He was a blacksmith of Baratheon blood, dragon's blood…" Bran looked down and his eyes went dark, then he said, "That sword needs blood to be forged."

"What do you mean, brother?" fear began to take root into Rickon's heart and his hands began to shake.

"The sword of light thousands of years ago had to be forged thrice, and during the last time it took the life of woman… I was told that this time, for a sword to be used agains the Others, it shall need to be forged thrice…" Bran's voice was shaking. He had just realized what the prophecy had meant for his family, for his people. "I know now why it was me… why the Bloodraven had chosen me…" he cried even more, and grieved at the fate of his family.

"It has taken one life, who will be the next brother?" Rickon asked with an equally trembling voice. He could only name a few people who would have blood worth taking, and three of them were family.

"I don't know… Rickon, it could be anyone…"

Silence then came between the two brothers and they merely sat down against the Weirwood's massive trunk. Neither of them knew what was to be done. They both wanted to protect those they loved, but they did not know from what.

Then, Rickon chose to break the silence… "Why us? Brother, why our family?"

Bran took a while to answer, but he had cynical laugh as he came to the conclusion, "because we are the sons of the first men. Our blood is the blood of westeros, no other family other than the Targaryens are this pure in their lineage as us."

Rickon felt the irony in it all- the wolves and the dragons being called upon to defend the world. Why do they have to sacrifice everything? They were once a very happy family, yet because of the world he could barely remember what it was like. For the first time in a long time, Rickon missed his mother's embrace and his father reassuring presence. He wanted to go back to that time when they were all together in Winterfell.

"We are the sons of the first men, we are the sons of winter, Rickon," Bran said in a whispering tone, "We have the blood of wolves and we shall bring an end to this, I know we can."


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 28: Prince of Exiles

Aegon heard Arya's screams from the night before but he did not go to her. He could not understand it either, but he did not feel it right. He had kissed Arya a few nights ago, but so much chaos has happened since then that they have not spoken about it to each other. He did not know why he did it. They were in the moment, but that was no excuse; especially since he is terribly confused on his feelings for the two sisters. He recalled Sansa's words to him. Both Arya and Sansa were aware of his feelings for them, but neither had truly given him reason to hope. He knew for certain that he was attracted to Arya's wild nature- it excited him beyond measure. Sansa, on the other hand, was incredibly brilliant. She was a lady in all her manners but was equal to Tyrion Lannister in mind. Sansa was more lethal than any man in court and that enticed him severely. Both sisters were like steep cliffs that could lead him to his death, and yet the rush he felt for both of them were incomparable.

Unable to settle his feelings, he decided to take a walk to the campgrounds instead. The men surely needed attention and that would be a better occupation for his head than the problems of his heart. The snow was already knee deep and food was starting to get scarce. They were saving all they could spare for the journey north, but even so he knew most were starving. The tents were not enough to keep their desert bodies warms. Several hundred men had already died in the first night, and were now being burned in mass to keep them from changing into whites. It was a sad sight to see his men clinging to the warmth created by their dead comrades.

"I led my men into this, and there is nothing I can do," he whispered to himself as he approached the Golden Company's banners. The troops were overjoyed to see him and they jeered at him to have a drink or two with them. Aegon tried hard to muster a smile, but excused himself. "I need to see the Captain," he told them, and he proceeded to the center of the camp where the largest pyre burned.

There, the captain of the golden company sat with a few of his men drinking some ale and eating some stale bread. He didn't bother to stand when Aegon came, nor did he bother to bow down to his prince. For him, Aegon was still the young lad he came to know as Young Griff and Young Griff he will be to him until he died. His predecessor was more accommodating to the young prince, but not he and Aegon far liked him better for it.

"What brings you down to us, Young Griff," the old man asked in his gritty voice.

"I don't really know old man," he replied in all honesty and sat there in the cold with his men.

He felt the melancholy air and was further depressed by the lack of singing and laughter. This was not the Golden Company he knew. From the periphery he could see a few men standing vigil for those who had died, while some were rushing about trying to save the dying. 'I led them here, what a King I will be,' he thought and moped some more.

After some time had passed, Aegon felt a cold metal being nudged on his shoulder. It was cup of ale the captain was handing to him. He graciously took it and let himself get drunk. He began to rethink his motives for brining these men across the Narrow Sea and into the abysmal cold. Unlike his Aunt, he did grow up a displaced prince. He never had to beg or run, nor prostitute himself to live. He was simply told that he was Aegon Targaryen, son of crown prince Rhaegar, and the rightful ruler of Westeros. But beyond the reason of birthright he did not have much to give to these people.

It may be true that he may be a born soldier, but was he a born king? It fazed him how Jon took to heart the well being of his people. Truly, Jon was the son of Rhaegar, and he had no real proof that he was. Deanarys merely believed him when she saw him. "King of the North," he scoffed bitterly. Jon would indeed make a fine king beside Dany; not to mention the throngs of followers who more than gladly die for him. He had to admit though, that Jon's selfless concern for his people was something that could not be learned. 'A Stark quality perhaps,' he thought, as his mind drifted back once more to the image of Sansa rallying to Vale to their cause and of Arya inspiring the down trodden Riverlords. They knew Westeros, and the people loved them for knowing them so well. He on the other hand was a foreigner. But he knew for certain that this land was his home, and he wished to know it more. The few days as Griff he had spent with Arya were among the best he had. He loved the simplicity of going around like an ordinary mercenary and meeting the people, seeing how they lived, and hearing of their plights.

Aegon wished he could go back to those days when he wore only leather for protection and had no ruby encrusted armors around him. Unfortunately he was a realistic man. Gone are the days when he could ride out into the plains and go off hunting on his own. He was the heir to the Targaryen Dynasty. If he went back now, all the lives of those who had died for him would for not.

Then Sansa resurfaced in his mind. She was highborne lady and acted in all ways according to her station, yet she was loved. Sansa was loved not only by her lords but also by the simple peasants who meet her. She was a Queen- the kind of ruler he wished to be. Sansa was also a foreigner when she came to the Vale. She was a bastard daughter of the most vilified man the Eyrie had ever seen. But she won their hearts, and held their loyalty long before they knew she was Sansa Stark.

His thought were unfortunately cut short when the captain finally spoke to him. "Your highness," he began uncharacteristically, "It az been quite a while since we last sat 'round e fire wid ya."

The memories brought a smile to Aegon's face which pleased the captain. "Our adventures in Essos feel like a lifetime ago."

"Aye, coz it iz. Ye wer young Griff then, and now ye are a Prince Aegon. That waz e time of summer, now iz Winter."

"Why did you all come to the North with us?" Aegon asked out of the blue.

The old man merely laughed at him and took another cup of ale before answering, "Int it obvious me boy?"

"No, I really don't know. You all could have stayed in the Stormlands. You didn't have to come up North."

"Why wuden't we Prince Aegon?" the old man smiled at him as he hit the back of Aegon's head. "Ye brought us all home. We were all unwanted men, disgraced exiles yet you brought us back. It was de dream of our fathers to step on dese lands once more- you made it real Aegon. You are our King and we shall follow you to da end."

Aegon felt relieved with his answer and was overjoyed. He wanted to shout and dance and play music. He stood up with a renewed fervor and called out to all the men. "Soldiers of Westeros! Tonight we shall sing, dance, and drink to the night! Tomorrow we meet with Destiny!" he shouted at them and the melancholy air immediately dissipated and was replaced by joy and laughter. The men made do with the little they could spare, but their hopes were lifted and they were ready to stand proud and march to wall in the morrow.

'Dany has her people and Jon has his own too. But I am Aegon, the Prince of Exiles, and I shall walk my own path.' He thought, and all the weight he was carrying before no longer mattered. He did not care if he truly was the son of Rhaegar. He did not care about his father's legacy. Aegon was the name of a conqueror- a man who would shape the world in his own accord. He was himself and he was happy for it.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 29: The Seven

Bran stayed at the Maester Aemon's old room during the rest of the morning. Rickon had gone back to stay with Arya, while the rest of the castle prepared to go to the wall. Everyone was busy trying to stay alive and Bran could not help but to try harder to understand Bloodraven's prophecy.

His old master had always emphasized to him that there was no such thing as a single correct religion. All their beliefs were connected in one simple understanding of the energy surrounding their lives. All of them predicted a battle for life- a battle against the others. Azor Ahai needed to be real for them to survive this war. He needed to be real or else the guilt over Gendry's death would forever haunt him.

Bran lay deep in thought as he searched the scrolls and books left alone in the maester's room. It was a good thing that it was saved from the burning of winterfel and from the countless of raids the ironborn had tried. But his concentration was disturbed when Summer went to the door and began opening it. In came Ghost who was trailed by a shy Dany.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you Lord Stark," Dany said before crossing the threshold.

"No of course you are not, your Grace. I am honored to have you here, please find a seat."

"Thank you, I was told by Lady Reed that you might be up here. I wanted to talk to you about last night," Dany was very much perplexed and hesitated to ask about what was in her mind. But Bran knew immediately why she had come.

"You've come to ask about Arya?" Dany nodded shyly with a worried expression. "I'm afraid she is having her own battle right now and I cannot reach her mind." Bran couldn't hide the shame from his voice and turned around to conceal it from the Queen.

"I heard the screams Lord Stark, surely what happened to Cat was no simple nightmare."

Bran turned around once more when he sensed the distress in Dany's voice. "It is no simple nightmare, your highness. I'm afraid destiny has begun to test us all."

"Destiny? What do you mean greenseer?"

"During the time I spent beyond the wall, I was under the tutelage of one of the last Targaryens."

"Bloodraven?"

"Yes, before he died he left with me a mission- to re-forge Dark Sister so that it may become the sword of the warrior."

"So that it may become lightbringer?"

"The sword in the past was forged thrice by Azor Ahai. First it was cooled with water, then with snow, and lastly with blood. I do not know exactly how Dark Sister would become the sword of light, but I did know that it needed to be whole again. So I sent to Ser Gendry Waters. He was the only one I knew of with the skill and strength for the task. Only a bull's determination can re-forge Valyrian steel into a greater sword."

"And did Ser Gendry succeed? I know he didn't come with us because he had mission of his own, or so did Cat tell me."

"He did, at the expense of his own life."

They both knew what it had meant and they fell silent with the tragedy that had befallen an honorable man. Dany could not help but shed a tear for her friend. She knew how Arya had felt about Gendry, and she knew how it felt to loose the one you loved.

"Where is the sword now?" Dany asked in a demanding voice. If a life was to be lost, it must be for a good reason.

"I don't know. I am sure it is on its way here. I could feel Nymeria getting closer."

"Arya's direwolf?"

"Yes, for some reason Nymeria found Gendry."

"Arya's a warg, so that means she was with him when he died," Dany could not help but feel even more pain for her friend. "Poor Arya, no wonder she was suffering so much. How is she right now?"

"My sister still has not awakened. I was told she had been growing colder by the minute. I am afraid death might take her," Bran's voice cracked as his body began to tremble. Arya was the closest to him in age, and he loved his sister dearly. He could not bear the guilt of possibly causing her death through heartbreak.

"Don't worry Lord Stark, Cat is a follower of Death, she will no succumb to it so easily."

"I am not worried if she would die; I am afraid her anger will cause her to create death's path. Arya is nothing but a vengeful child at heart."

"Trust her, Lord Stark. That is all we can do for her.

Silence passed between them. There was nothing more they could discuss on Arya's case. But there was so much they still had to find out. Dany began busying herself with the piles of scrolls she found in a trunk by the wall.

"These are legends of the First Men," she said, "mixed with the current lore."

"Maester Aemon took it upon himself to collect the stories of the Northern people. Our culture is so different from the rest of Westeros."

"So I've heard," a touch of longing was felt on Dany's heart when she remembered the Northron Lord who had told her so many stories about his homeland. "But look at this Lord Stark, a scroll about the seven."

"My mother was actually probably the first person to worship the Seven here in the North, your highness. That must be one of her scrolls."

"No, Bran. I meant, do you think it was a coincidence that Ser Gendry was a Smith and Arya is a servant of death?"

Bran was then struck with sense all became clearer. "All religions point to one prophecy about the Warrior of Light," he exclaimed as Dany nodded. "Father, Mother, Maiden, Warrior, Smith, Crone, and Stranger- they're the Seven faces of Azor Ahai."

"And the sword shall be forged first by Water, then Snow, and last by Blood."

The two fell silent as they understood more clearly what it meant. Waters for the bastards of the Stormlands, Snow for the sons of Winter, and Blood from the words of the Targaryens. One wolf and one dragon will forge the sword of light, and another will yield it.


	31. Chapter 31

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters and settings in this story

Chapter 30: On to the Wall

Daenarys looked to the darkness up north. The blizzard had taken a turn for the worst and had made staying in Winterfell all but impossible. It was now or never; either she take her forces p to battle or they will face death in the wolf's wood. Fear crept in her heart for the first time in years. The cold was piercing even through her hot skin and seeped in to the core.

She summoned Drogon and took her cloak. She wore the white furs and gloved her hands and jumped out of her tower window. Drogon caught her and they flew up to where the air was so thin it was hard to breath. "Even above the clouds there is no light, Drogon."

Daenarys found it hard to breathe, but it was perfect. She was most in tuned with her dragons when she was listlessly a flight. "Viserion… Rhaegal…" she whispered in the wind and she felt them respond. "Viserion, keep Jon alive… Rhaegal… stay with Aegon… We are going to war my children." Drogon then spiraled down towards the ground and stopped just before the assembled army. The dreaded black dragon shot flames onto the air and the soldiers shouted in response. Daenarys gave them no words. They all knew what was coming. They all knew what they had to lose and her presence leading them was all the needed. From the far end Daenarys saw the green shimmer that was Rhaegal. "Follow me…" she whispered and flew on towards the Wall.

Aegon saw his aunt's flames and he felt her words through Rheagal. All uncertainty left him and confidently he answered her. Rhaegal's flame was a golden gleam of green, it was more regal and romantic than Drogon's black and red but it fit Aegon all the more. He proudly rode behind her and led his troops. He looked at the expanse before him. It was road almost waist deep in snow but filled with spots of soldiers that had come with them. They were an army of several thousand men when they assembled, but they were now much less than before. Too many men had succumbed to the cold; too many had died of exhaustion; now they were bringing them to die fighting for the dawn.

He looked back to Winterfell and thought of Arya. She would've loved this battle, but she was so far away. He did not see her before he left; he did not feel it right. There was an amount of certainty that had washed over him after he had kissed her. He felt light and free. Arya had released him, but something else tied him to life. He still felt the fear of dying. Aegon looked down once more and he knew that it was the Kingdom that bound him to the world.

Bran finally went up to Arya's room. Rickon had carried him there before his little brother left for the Wall. "Jon's there Arya, so please wherever you are do not let them die." He held onto his sister's hand and tried to reach her mind, but he kept on failing miserably. "Most of them will never return sister, but please help those we love come home to Winterfell."


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 30: On to the Wall

Jon arrived in the Wall only to see towers of black fire rise from all across it. "A battle," he thought and he rushed Viserion down onto Castle Black. The blizzard had weaken only slightly, at least it was enough to see a few miles from both ends. Jon could count at least 15 pyres burning. His heart raced. Fire was good, but how bad had it been for his people. He descended in the training yard. It was waist deep in snow and very hard to walk on. The smell of burning flesh filled the air; it was so noxious that even Viserion growled in disgust. "Please be alive," he kept on repeating, "Please, Sam, be alive."

Jon entered the castle's quarters and headed straight to the dining hall. A smidge of cooking gruel came from behind its doors. Hope welled up within in him; but mixed with shame. He wondered how many of his brothers remained safe behind those doors. However, it would not do anyone good for him to hesitate. With one strong push of the door, he opened the frozen wood and stepped in.

What received him was a bunch of tattered crows in awe of his sight. They all froze, seemingly not believing their eyes, until a familiar voice rose from the silence. "Jon! Jon! You're back!" shouted Sam as he made his stubby way to him. Jon felt such a relief that his friend was yet again alive.

"Yes Sam, I am back." Jon replied and he embraced his brother who was nothing more than a brave man shaking in fear. He then looked to the rest of them. The crows were confused more than ever. It struck him, and it struck him hard. "I have not abandoned you my brothers," he began but still there was silence. "I brought with me a great dragon, a gift from the new Targaryen Queen, and behind me marches all the men south of the Wall. They have come to help us fight for the dawn, my brothers." Jon couldn't say any more, but his brothers were still silent. Most of them were apparently shaking and heavily breathing. Then one shouted, "I knew you wouldn't forsake us! I knew it!" and the old man burst into tears and kept on pounding the table from relief. "All hail Jon Snow, the Night's King!" the rest of men followed and they stood to welcome him. His brothers had forgiven him, and Jon was more than relieved.

"I am glad you are back, you were gone for much too long," a voice from the shadows spoke. It made Jon smile, the deep and growling voice of Tormund Giantsbane was a welcome sound indeed.

"My friend, tell me what had happened in my absence."

They all sat around in the dining hall as the few men reported on their status. "When the blizzard came, we all knew that they were coming. We were as prepared as we could have been," Sam recounted, "but we were certainly not united in our fear. Many of us were disheartened and looked for leadership under Stannis Baratheon. While others foregone our prejudices and helped with the Wildlings. But in the end of it all, were just small units spread across the Wall trying to defend it."

"Stannis Baratheon died, Jon, but he does not burn in our pyres. We do not know what had become of him, as he was holding on to the Night's Fort. The wildlings tried to pry him out of it, but even that became a bloody battle that resulted in a waste of lives."

"And what of Melissandre, where is she?"

Sam's face turned grim as did the faces of their other brothers. Only Tormund spoke, "She burned. In the last minute of desperation, Stannis burned her and through her over." Jon was silent after. He knew what he needed to know and he needed rest. By tomorrow and fortnight, the southron forces would've reached them. So he rested and let his mind drift into the night.

Jon allowed himself to drift in his dreams. He found himself in Winterfell, watching Dany in his room. She was staring at the flames and playing with embers. She had glow about her, he noted- one that seemed like she was a flame encased in a shell. To his surprise, it seemed as she had noticed him staring at her. She gestured him to come closer, and she embraced him and stroked his fur. It finally came to Jon that he had warged into Ghost yet again. He felt warm and safe as Dany stroked his wolf. There was a feeling of reassurance that emanated from her touch. Jon was drowning in the serene pleasure that it took him awhile to notice that she had been holding his face and staring onto his eyes. "Stay alive, Jon, and wait for us," she whispered and she closed her eyes and pressed her forehead onto his.

Jon awoke from his wolf dream drenched in sweat. The furs had already been to warm for his hot skin. He rose and went to the glass window. He held onto to longclaw and took his cape. He went to Viserion and stroked the dragon's muzzle. "We will see the light, my dragon."

a/n:

Sorry if it took me too long to update. I've been having a bit of a writer's block, but rest assured that things are going well again. Just writing a few more, and I'll be uploading a bunch soon.

Thanks for reading and waiting!


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 32: The Old Blood of the North

Even with the blizzard lightening the passages beneath the Wall remained deathly cold. No one had attempted to cross to the other castles this whole time, both in fear of the cold and the possibility of encountering whites along the way. But Jon was different, he was no mere watchman; he was the Night's King- his seat the Night Fort. He needed to be there by the time Danearys lands on the Wall. His people needed to know he was alive and leading them.

Unfortunately, without the cover of the blizzards, Viserion's silver gleam was bright beacon announcing him. It was unwise to resurface so easily with so many enemies in the darkness- most of whom Jon is unaware of. If he had the element of surprise, he would certainly like to keep it. Thus Jon left Castle Black and made for the Night Fort with a party of 5 men, including Tormund Giantsbane.

Jon had assembled the best watchmen he could have- those who knew the Wall best among them; but even they were not confident to go through the maze. The watch had long abandoned these passages and even with rearming of the other castles there was not enough time for them to memorize the maze. All they had going was the confidence Jon seemed to have in abundance.

They roped themselves together with Jon taking the lead. They dared not take a torch with them for it was again too dangerous to be seen. Giantsbane almost freaked out in the idiocy of the notion, but Jon's eyes were so confident that it swallowed all of them whole. Jon seemed to have no difficulty moving through, they were sure they passed several forks but Jon knew exactly where to go. The men prayed that Jon truly did know what he was doing.

Giantsbane, most of all, was uneasy. He was a man of freedom, he did not like tight spaces like these, but when he felt the little vermin running by his feet much of his worry dissipated and he merely held on to the rope that connected him to Jon. 'Dear Gods I hope my hunch is right,' he thought to himself and walked on.

The party did not stop for a seconds rest. They simply walked on for what felt like days but was actually only about half of one. By the time they realized they were exhausted, they were already at the dungeons. They had made it, effortlessly.

Jon allowed his men to rest a moment and they broke some of the bread they brought along in silence. The small torch at the end of the hall was such a welcome sight that they all went weak kneed. But something was terribly amiss. The air had an underlying stench of burnt flesh. Neither Jon nor Giantsbane raised it for the moment but they both knew it suspicious. Then, a mutual observation surfaced and their eyes met. 'The dungeons were completely empty'.

Jon turned away first and closed his eyes. Tormund watched his solemn face turn tacit. "Let's go up," Jon commanded. True enough, not a single soul met them. The whole castle was dead. Soon enough they reached the court yard- it charred black. Perhaps the largest pile was burnt here, but it had gone out long before the pyres in Castle Black were lit. The men spread out fast and they made their way to the center. There was single metal spike while burnt chains were scattered around.

"What the fucking hell did those mad men do!" Tormund shouted in rage. He felt it in his bones that many wildlings burned here.

Jon remained silent amidst the growls and curses. He walked towards the pike and kneeled. He began searching through the soot, and there he found something he wishes he had not. He picked up the partly melted hexagonal necklace and clutched it tightly. "I wished with all my heart that Sam was wrong… STANNIS YOU WERE MAD!" he screamed loudly for the first time. The men stopped and stared at him. They had not seen him lose temper before, and Jon burned in rage. There was something feral in his breathing as he shouted a growl again.

'Wolf's blood' was all Giantsbane could think of.

Once Jon had calmed he walked towards the Great Hall where the makeshift throne was placed. Tormund noted a change in his movement. It was not as graceful as it had been before. He may have calmed but he was different. Something else had awoken in him. Then suddenly, Jon drew Longclaw and began smashing Stannis' throne. The men merely watched in awe and fear. Jon thrashed about with the sword until nothing was left but the hard stone base it sat on. He then began prying through the mortar and at that point Tormund thought he'd gone mad.

"Jon! Stop! You cannot destroy stone, you'll damage your sword!" the old rushed to Jon in alarm and held onto the king's shoulders.

Jon looked back at him with the same feral eyes. They made Giantsbane take a step back. 'A cold fire burns in his eyes. They glow…' he thought.

"Help me, we need something beneath this," Jon commanded in a whisper. Giantsbane motioned for the other men and they began work on the stone. It took all five of them to move it out of place. Much to their surprise, a trap door was waiting beneath the stone.

Jon opened it and went down. The men got torches and followed. Once light had permitted to see well enough they saw what it truly was they came for- it was a whole garrison of dragon glass weapons.

"Go up the Wall now and burn a black flame, let our brothers know I have returned."

Three of the men rushed up after taking a few weapons. The crippled Stark had told them before what the dragon glass was for, but little did they know that the watch had them in abundance.

"Long ago, when the Watch was still noble, the children of the forest would make these for them. Every year they would meet and remember the long night…" Jon recounted solemnly as she searched through the swords.

"What are you looking for?" Giantsbane asked.

"A sword that could carry fire."

Giantsbane could not understand his answer, but he merely thought of the legend. "They did say the Night's King was a Stark."

Above the wall black flames light up one by one across it. Danaerys saw the spectacle from atop Drogon and she smiled. It was Jon's sign. He was alive and he had taken back his Wall. She descended to her men and halted their procession.

They were already at the Gift and it was time they spread-out. Danaerys gathered her lords and directed them each to their respective castles.

"My Lords, the castles with black flames are manned by our brethren. They are waiting for us and have prepared for us. Beneath the Great Halls are troves of weapons, equip our soldiers as much as you can and prepare for the battle. This calm is merely and interlude before they strike. We shall fight! In Fire and Blood we will take our freedom!"

Danaerys flew back up where she was met by Aegon. "My nephew, look at them. We are their Kings and Queen. We shall do everything to bring them home."


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 32: The Longest Night

Drogon landed on the courtyard of the Night's Fort where she was met by Jon's small court. The King was in seclusion in his room. Dany dismounted Drogon and the black dragon flew up and met his brother. She looked south and saw Rhaegal from afar; soon the three heads of the dragon will be together once again. She followed Giantsbane into the castle and demanded she be brought to Jon immediately.

Danaerys did not bother knocking on the door and merely entered. Part of her was furious, and the other was curious of what Jon was doing locked up in his room. She found him sitting on the window ledge with a burnt necklace in hand. 'Whose necklace is that?' she wondered with a jealous heart but she hid it and icily treaded the gap between them. She had felt Jon's eyes on her the whole time he was gone. Ghost was left with her for a reason, and instinct now burned deep within her.

Jon felt the warmth enter with her presence but he did not move from his seat. His gazed remained affixed towards the bleakness beyond the wall. The darkness was ever growing and he knew it would not be long. The army had just come in time; had they come a little later, the whole world would not have stood a chance.

With each darkening hour, Jon knew that night was setting in. The thought had filled him to the point that there was nothing more he could do. His commanders were prepared; all they had to do was to be prepared for the long night. What was left for him, Dany, and Aegon was to ride out and meet the enemy in the face. They would have to burn a million white walkers if they had to- everything to save them from an unending winter.

Dany took Jon by the shoulder and he faced her with those cold Stark eyes of his. The fire within her burned and without much thought she caught his face in her and kissed him. Jon closed his eyes on impact and returned her passion. He gripped on the back of her neck and pulled her down to his lap, as they got lost further in the kiss. They parted only for gasps of air but neither bothered for words between their kisses. The fire in their blood burned together and was reaching a point of rupture. Jon then stood without breaking their hold and guided her onto his bed. Dany was surprised with his confidence. 'A man of the Night's watch' she thought, but Jon's advances had easily distracted her. He kissed her so kindly and lovingly that it was new to Dany- this kind of lovemaking. It was not the same as Drogo's wild feral movements, or Daario's suave but actions. Jon was different from any man she had ever had. He was gentle but manly. There was force in his grip but it did not hurt her. He took his time with her, he allowed her to build up and allowed her proper releases. It was far better that she had ever experienced and she felt like her fire extinguishing in pleasure.

It was a while after they had finished until they realized what it was they gave in to. Dany was smiling like a giddy bride as she lay on his bare chest but Jon was silent and unmoving. He was not stiff but he was too silent. Dany had expected him to stroke her hair or give her little kisses, but he did not. He remained still and staring at the ceiling. Dany's eyes then returned to the necklace he was holding and she sat up with glowering face. Jon simple looked at her as if nothing was wrong. His grey eyes were so innocent that Dany's jealous rage easily dissipated with the touch his hand stroking her face.

"What is on your mind, your Grace?" she asked him in a soft teasing voice.

He too sat up and leant on the headboard and drew her closer to him before answering, "Honestly, nothing."

"But your mind seems so distant. It makes me jealous to think that I do not fill your thoughts after…" she replied trailing off and waiting for him to make amends, but he did not. Jon merely swallowed some air and his face turned into a shade of sadness that Dany could not understand.

"Are you bothered that I am your aunt? It is not against Targaryen tradition, Jon!" Dany said in protest.

"No I am not, truth be told it has been a tension on my shoulders ever since I saw you."

"Then what is it Jon! What is keeping you so distant from me?" Dany held his face in both hands that he may look straight at her, but all she saw were those sad grey eyes.

"The last girl I loved, I had to forsake for the good of the realm." Jon then stood and dressed without letting Dany say a word. She could not, for fear cut into her heart deeply.

Jon left his room in haste and went up to the Wall for some air. All around him were the black flames lit by the men loyal to him. "Kissed by fire," he whispered as his last memory of Ygritte replayed on him. It scared him that in a few moments there was the great possibility that he would lose Dany too. They were at war against forces so dark that it united the whole of Westeros. He was too far gone with her; not after that. Jon tried to keep his vow not to love another again, but Danaerys was one force he could not suppress. "She is fire itself, I hope she will not die."

Aegon looked around the Night Fort for his brother and had just spotted him going up the corridor to the lift and had barely missed him. Aegon was determined to speak with his brother. It loomed at him that there was a big chance that it would be the last time. He waited for the lift to come down again and contemplated on the things he wanted to ask his brother but nothing came to mind. He had thrown all of his insecurities about his parentage during the journey here and now was not the time to entertain matters of the heart. By the time he entered the wooden cage, Aegon had surmised that he simply wanted to be with family.

"Brother," he greeted the melancholy dragon. Jon was simply standing there and staring out in the cold.

"Brother," Jon replied with lingering hesitation. "Forgive me, Prince Aegon, but I am still getting used to calling you brother. I had not called family such since I said farewell to Robb."

"Robb Stark, the King in the North," Aegon said contemplatively, "had he lived to be with us in this battle, what do you would he have been doing right now?"

"Knowing Robb, he would probably be with his boy and his Queen," Jon answered absent-mindedly. He did not know where he got his answer from, but it stung deep in him.

"So it is just right that we are with family," Aegon said patting Jon on the shoulder. "I am as afraid as you are, brother. We are fire made flesh; we will win this."

Jon gave Aegon a smile and returned the gesture. Neither of them knew how to react further and there was a moment of awkward silence between them. Aegon then laughed and turned a lighter mood. "So this is how it feels to be an elder brother. Honestly Jon, I find myself worrying about you Dany so much it makes my head hurt. I know you two are the King and the Queen but both of you are so much younger than I that I feel some kind of responsibility when I see you."

"I understand the feeling. I feel that everyday for my adoptive family. Just think how much more brash Arya is than Dany and how uncontrollable Rickon can be. At least Bran has proven wiser for his age, but Sansa… dear Sansa- I worry she'd be displaced forever. I have not seen her in so long that I worry about her the most."

Aegon fell silent before telling Jon of Arya's malady.

"I don't know what had happened since I dared not ask. But the night you left, Arya was screaming and thrashing in her room and she is now practically lifeless."

"Why did no one inform me immediately?!"

"Only a few knew. It was the only reason she is not here with us today, Jon." Aegon did not know how to comfort his brother as the frantic worry washed on him. "You cannot leave now, Jon. We have to protect the realm. Arya is having her own battle tonight."


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 33: Valar Morghulis

It was a cold and empty place- the void where Arya's soul imprisoned herself. She had lost all feeling and had forgotten about the outside world. All she felt was that she wanted death to take her and free her of her suffering. All life had lost its meaning as her heart lay broken in pieces. Too much has been taken from her. She can no longer stand a world where the righteous suffer and the evil live to die in soft warm feather beds. Vengeance had lost all its meaning for her.

She lay there in the darkness, unmoving, holding the coin J'aqen had left her. 'All men must serve' she thought. 'All men must die' she replied to herself. Arya contemplated on the worth of human life and value of suffering. She wondered, "death is a gift, why must I keep on living?" She began to laugh and it echoed in the darkness. "Death is a gift!" she repeated and shouted onto the void. Arya sat up and flung her arms, spilling the fluid filled cup onto whatever floor there was. "Death is gift! And I am the one who walks with death!" she shouted maniacally laughing and gripping on to her hair. "No one has to suffer anymore! No one! Everyone must die… Valar Morghulis… Valar Morghulis…" she repeated in an eerie whisper.

Then, she felt the cold winds against her skin and saw the white of snow. She realized she was within Nymeria once more and she was running through a blizzard, apparently following a red headed figure.

"Sansa," she thought, "it could only be dear old Sansa, come home to the North." She followed her sister stealthily, wondering what she could be doing in the Wolfswood. Then she noticed the long slender object wrapped in black cloth, tied to Sansa's back. It could on be one thing- the sword that took Gendry's life. Anger and pain over took her and she began to be more carnal and instinctive. She began to ran faster towards her sister and in anger attacked her. "Damn that stupid sword! Gendry should not have to die for a stupid sword!" Arya shouted in Nymeria's head as her aggression rose. Sansa was visibly frightened but stood her ground.

"Nymeria please!" she heard Sansa plead, but Sansa unwrapped the sword and moved it in defense against her. Arya attacked her more fervently, trying to take the sword from her sister. 'That sword will kill you too!' Arya thought, as she felt the pain of losing her whole family once again. 'If you die now Sansa, certainly we will all be together.' Arya ran and lunged for an attack. She tasted blood on her tongue and knew that she had injured Sansa. But she felt week on her side and felt blood gushing out of her as well. They had both been injured, but she noticed that Sansa was a lot weaker than her. Her sister was not built for battle, let alone the wilderness. She was about to collapse. It was Arya's opportunity to finish her and liberate her from this world. Arya had Nymeria pounce on her and pin her down. And as Sansa collapsed to the ground she whispered, "Arya, please…"

It struck a chord onto Arya's heart. Her sister was fighting with all her might to stay alive and bring that stupid sword to whoever that damn warrior is. Arya had to retreat. Nymeria took several steps back and sat staring at the wounded Sansa.

"Valar Morghulis," Arya repeated once again, but then she stopped and cried, "Valar Dohaeris! If one must serve then I shall serve, but do not take my sister's life now! I shall promise you I will walk with death for as long death needs me, but give me this! Let my sister live and let the warrior of light deliver us from this darkness!" Arya shouted in the void hoping that the Stranger might hear her. Instead of a voice, the sound of coin dropping in front of her came. She picked it up and smiled calmly. Arya took a deep breath and returned to Nymeria's consciousness. She had to get Sansa to safety. At least that much she must do.

Death will claim them soon, but not today… Not today.

Sansa was bleeding badly and there was nothing much a wolf can do but try to carry her to safety. Arya could feel, from Nymeria's body, her sister going cold and icy. She was turning pale like a frozen corpse. Life was leaving her body slowly with every drip of blood that fell onto the white snow. Arya could feel the panic course through her. She knew it was her fault that Sansa got wounded so badly; it was her fault that she may die or worse, become a white. Arya refused to give in to the possibility and carried on. Nymeria was strong, thank the gods, and she was large enough to carry Sansa easily through the snow. Nymeria ran through the forrrest in full speed, hoping to get Sansa to the Wall in time. "I have to go to the Wall… I have to…" Sansa kept on repeating with the last of her strength. Although the Umber keep might have been closer to where they were, Arya felt that she had to honor Sansa's wishes. But she feared her sister might not make it, not through this blizzard.

The snow was getting deeper and deeper as they went farther North. The trees had barely been visible and they seemed a lot shorter than they should. Certainly, there wouldn't be any dangers along the way, Arya hoped. However, things were never that easy for them. With a whiff of the wind, Nymeria caught the scent of danger. Soon enough, a giant mountain lion was blocking their way. It was poised to attack and looked blood thirsty. Nymeria growled in aggression, and positioned herself to try and get away, but the lion tackled her and threw her onto a tree. She was able to throw Sansa on to the snow in time, but Arya worried Sansa could've been hurt by the fall. She glanced at her as Nymeria stood up. Sansa show no signs of life aside from her obsessive hold on that infernal sword.

"I have to protect Sansa!" Arya growled in Nymeria head and she lunged to attack. Several times she and lion met and struck each other blows. It did not take long before both were exhausted and heavily injured, but neither would relent. Nymeria huffed and growled. It was her last chance. If she fails, the world will plunge into eternal winter and her sister will die. She cannot let that happened, especially not in the face of a lion. Nymeria ran at full speed and jumped with her teeth bared and aiming for the lion's neck. They both landed, bleeding. A slash had caught Nymeria's face and deep gash bled heavily, but she was still the victor. The lion collapsed and bled to death in the snow.

Nymeria rushed to Sansa's side and found her to be hard and frozen- almost like ice. Her once pink lips have lost all it's color and had her eyes been open, Arya suspected they were no longer the same blue she got from their mother. Nymeria howled as Arya cried for her sister.

"No Sansa! Please don't turn into one of them, you cannot turn into a white!" Arya wailed as she cried for her sister. Nymeria licked Sansa's face, hoping to warm her seemingly dead body.

"I'll do anything, please, God with Many Faces, I shall give you my life… just restore my sister's." Arya screamed and she lost all consciousness.

From the battlefield, Aegon heard the wolf cry and had to stop his fighting. He felt a deep pain in his heart as if it were dying. He looked down onto the carnage below and conflict began to fill his features. Aegon could not decide if he would heed the call of his love or should he stay and fight with his men.

They were losing the battle. Even with three dragons, they could not see the end to the numbers of their enemies. The white walkers even seemed to grow in numbers. Their fallen comrades had been reawakened one by one as whites and soon all of them will be dead as the cold winter wind. Aegon's heart fell to further despair. He tried to search for Drogon's and Viserion's flames but they were too far apart for him see them. Aegon was certain things were not any better wherever they were. He had been given charge of defending the western part of the Wall, and here in this remote area, the bloodshed was catastrophic- what more tragedy was happening in the middle?

Once again the wolf howled in the distance and Aegon's heart was crushed and he fell to tears. "Sansa," he thought. He wished to see Sansa once more. He wanted to live and tell her he loved her- only her. More tears began to fall from his eyes when he felt the horror. "Sansa could be dead," he thought. Without thinking much, he pulled Rhaegal's reins and flew to wherever the wolf was crying. He knew his actions would dishearten his men, so he blew a great fireball against the enemy before completely retreating.

It did not take long before Aegon reached the land over where Sansa lay dying. He could see the crimson blood from up above and he descended in haste. Aegon could not understand what Sansa was doing there, but he was certain she was dead. He cradled his love in his arms and he wept and wept for her. Her skin had turned so cold that it seemed like it would melt against the fire in his blood. "Sansa… Sansa, please…" he begged and begged but she did not move or breathe. Aegon embraced her and stroked her long red hair. He soon found the wound on her side he covered it with his fur cloak.

In his grief, he was unable to notice the dead lion nearby and the barely breathing direwolf beside them. It was only when Nymeria howled that he noticed the direwolf's presence. Aegon did not understand what the wolf was doing and he grew afraid but Nymeria bowed before him and approached with caution. The wolf showed him the sword Sansa held on to and Aegon realized what it was.

"Damn the Gods! Lightbringer!" he cried, deepening the pain in his heart. He knew the legends, but he did not truly believe that the woman he loved had to die to forge the sword. He took it from Sansa's dead hands and he raised it against the Sun. It did not feel burning as it should and bothered Aegon. It gave him hope that Sansa might still be living. "Lightbringer is not yet fully forged. Sansa! Please live!" he shouted into the nothingness as he threw the sword to one side and embraced Sansa's body once more. "My love, please live…" he said and he kissed her frozen lips with all the warmth and love he could muster.

Nymeria watched them and bowed. The blood from her wound refused to stop bleeding, and she felt her life ending. The exchange was complete and Sansa was safe.

Back in Winterfel, Meera Reed began to shout and cry hysterically- calling for Bran to come to Arya's room. Life had left his sister completely, and all was left was an ice-cold body.

Author's note:

I know I've been building up to the great battle for several chapters now, but it'll be the next one, I promise. Enjoy!


End file.
